March to the Beat of 8059
by RubyFiamma
Summary: [Series] [8059/5980] [Smut] [A/U] A collection of drabbles and oneshots based on music that I listen to for the pairing Gokudera Hayato x Yamamoto Takeshi. Contains mature themes. Each story will have it's appropriate warnings before the fic begins. Listening to the songs before hand or during is highly recommended but not needed.
1. I Touchin' on My - 3Oh 3

**March to the Beat of 8059**

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Hi guys! Me again. So I've seen this song shuffle prompt a few times on and Tumblr, so I just wanted to try it out. I must warn you though, my taste in music is quite eclectic and probably won't make sense. Also, I'll be using the titles of the songs as well as occasionally using the lyrics in my drabbles/oneshots.

**[Prompt]** Write a series of sentences or drabbles with your favorite pairing based off of songs on your iPod or other mp3 playlist. Set it to shuffle and use the first ten songs you hear.

**[Pairing] **8059, YamaxGoku, Yamamoto Takeshi x Gokudera Hayato

**[Fandom] **Katekyō Hitman Reborn!

**[Rating] **M - Contains swearing, violence, zombies, boys love (boyxboy/yaoi) and sexually suggestive content

**[Disclaimer] **I don't own any of the characters belonging to Katekyo Hitman Reborn! or the plotlines related to the manga/anime. All credits go to Amano-sensei.

{Amano Akira, Katekyo Hitman Reborn!}

Let's get this party started!

* * *

I. **T****ouchin' On My - 3Oh!3 **

In a parallel universe, Gokudera Hayato is a dazzling, infamous Italian composer. During a scouting trip, baseball coach Yamamoto Takeshi happens to see a performance and is immediately drawn to this alluring man like a magnet.

He takes a chance and intercepts the Italian at intermission. Yamamoto instantly regrets his decision because this man is rude and crass, chain smoking and avoiding his gaze.

Yamamoto can't deny the heat rising in his belly, the twitching in his groin as Gokudera runs a finger along his collar bone, made visible by his open dress shirt.

He can sense the composer is attracted to him because every so often he blushes or licks his lips unconsciously.

Gokudera suddenly cuts the conversation short, biting his lip and hooking a thumb into a belt loop on his low riding dress pants.

"I've gotta go..." he says hesitantly, biting his lip and pulling on the belt loop. "Finish with the show... "

Yamamoto doesn't want to lose the one and only chance he might get to be with this beautifully seductive man so he grabs on to Gokudera's wrist as he turns away and locks on to the silver haired composer's aquatic eyes.

He takes a large gulp, his throat a little dry but he narrows his eyes with determination and musters up the courage to say what he's wanted to say the instant he saw this man.

"If you wanna fuck me, I won't say no."

And with ten minutes to spare before the end of the intermission, Gokudera had him banged up against the metal partition of the concert hall's bathroom stall, touching on his everything.


	2. II Temporary Bliss - The Cab

II. **Temporary Bliss - The Cab**

* * *

Yamamoto Takeshi is laying in bed, staring at the ceiling lost in thought when he hears the vibration of his cell phone on the bedside table.

He sighs because he knows who it is without having to look, he doesn't want to answer but he knows that he will.

After the phone vibrates with the sixth notification that he has an unseen message, he rolls over and grabs the phone. On the display it tells him he has a text message from [**Dera**] otherwise known as Gokudera Hayato. He groans and opens the message app and the only message that's there is from five minutes ago at 2:00 am.

_Come over. _

That's it. A simple command. Gokudera's good at demanding and Yamamoto is good at complying.

Against his will, his body moves on its own accord. Yamamoto gets out of bed and gets dressed.

He can't help it, he's addicted but he can't stand the pain inflicted by this whole situation.

He's glad his father isn't home because even though he's eighteen, leaving at two a.m on a weeknight would raise a lot of questions and he's not smart enough to think of a believable excuse.

When he gets to Gokudera's apartment, his heart starts to race and his palms get sweaty. He's got an anxious feeling like butterflies fluttering in his stomach. It's a good feeling, Yamamoto assumes this is what love must feel like except he wouldn't know because Gokudera won't acknowledge it. He's refuses to give what he and Yamamoto have between them a name and it makes Yamamoto confused.

He knocks on the door to Gokudera's apartment but there's no answer. He's debates on knocking again because part of him wants to flee and save himself the heartache but the other part needs Gokudera like an addict would a drug. Just as he lifts a hesitant hand to knock again, Gokudera opens the door.

Instantly, Gokudera's seductive aura rushes past him like an ocean breeze and causes his breath to become trapped in his lungs. All he can see is this man's bewitching beauty.

He stands at the door in an open dress shirt and black silk boxers that hang low off his angular hip bones. The openness of his dress shirt exposes his creamy ivory skin, the sharp planes in his stomach and beveled obliques, pale pink nipples and lastly the most attractive thing Yamamoto considers to be on this part of his body. His extremely tantalizing, protuberant collar bone.

His silver hair falls in short, shaggy layers framing his face and brushing off his shoulders and his viridian irises are heavy with mirth.

His soft, plush lips curl around the butt of a cigarette and he arches a brow.

"Che, took you long enough. Get inside."

Yamamoto blinks free from his daze and steps over the threshold. Gokudera locks the door behind him.

Yamamoto watches as Gokudera struts over to the sofa and takes a seat. His eyes drifted to the wall clock.

_Took me long enough? _he thinks, a little perturbed. _I come over, quarter past two... love in my eyes, blinded by you just to get a taste of heaven -_

"Oi, Yamamoto. Are you just going to stand there like an idiot?" Gokudera asks, pulling on his cigarette. He exahales two bluish gray plumes of smoke from his nostrils and runs the two fingers holding his cigarette along his collar bone.

Yamamoto gulps audibly and walks over to the sofa so that he's standing in front of Gokudera.

Before he does anything, he wants answers. He wants some kind of confession. He wants _something more._

He opens his mouth to say something but falls silent when Gokudera leans forward, butting his cigarette out on the table and roughly pulls Yamamoto onto his lap.

He immediately attacks Yamamoto's neck with sharp teeth followed by the desperate press of his lips.

A shudder ripples through Yamamoto's body and he loses his train of thought. He leans in and rests his head on Gokudera's shoulder as Gokudera licks a tentative stripe up his neck to the sensitive spot behind his ear.

"You have too many layers on, idiot," Gokudera whispers harshly in his ear. He tugs at the hem of Yamamoto's t-shirt, bunching it up under his arms.

"Gokudera, I-"

"Don't talk," he says abruptly, pulling Yamamoto's shirt over his head. He presses the palms of his hands on Yamamoto's shoulder blades and brings his mouth to one of Yamamoto's hardened nipples.

Yamamoto elicits a pleasurable gasp as Gokudera kneads the bud with his teeth, sucking and tugging and Yamamoto's hands instinctively go up into the silver hair and another moan escapes from his lips.

Gokudera slides a hand down Yamamoto's ribs, across his chisled stomach and down over the bulge in his jeans. He rubs in a circular fashion, sucking and finally biting down on the skin above Yamamoto's nipple, leaving a red crescent shaped kiss mark.

He undoes the button on Yamamoto's jeans and slips his hand down Yamamoto's boxers. He curls his slender fingers around Yamamoto's erection and tugs on it roughly.

"Gokudera..."

"Shh," he whispers against Yamamoto's neck in between a lick. He tugs harder and presses his thumb into the slit of Yamamoto's head.

"Aah... Goku... st-stop."

Gokudera ignores his request and bites down hard on the juncture of Yamamoto's shoulder.

Yamamoto lets out a cry and pushes Gokudera back into the couch. "Stop," he says meekly.

Gokudera scowls at him. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"I... I-I can't keep sleeping in your bed if you keep messing with my head."

"What..."

"Before I slip under your sheets, can you give me something, please?"

Gokudera cocks a silver brow and glares at him furiously. "What? What do you want?"

"I... I want you to say it."

"Say what, you asshole?" He places his hands on Yamamoto's hips and looks up at him frustratingly.

Yamamoto sighs because he loves this man and even though he yearns to hear those words, he knows he'll never say them but still... he has to try.

He takes Gokudera's face into his hands and peers into the sea green eyes that glare at him. "Tell me you love me."

Gokudera's face turns a beautiful shade of vermilion and he narrows his eyes. "Get out."

Yamamoto drops his hands to his sides, defeated. His heart sinks into his stomach which plummets to the floor.

Gokudera tries pushing him off his lap but Yamamoto is bigger than he is and can hold his strength against the smaller man when he needs to. He grabs Gokudera's wrists and doesn't budge.

"Get out, you bastard!" Gokudera shouts, annoyed that he can't win the power struggle.

"Gokudera..." Yamamoto begins, pushing Gokudera's arms back against the sofa so that he's trapped beneath Yamamoto's larger body. "We were on fire, now we're frozen. There's no desire, nothing spoken. I keep waiting for your heart."

Gokudera stares up at Yamamoto, still red in the face, blinking. His expression has softened to one of shock and he's been rendered speechless so Yamamoto continues.

"I am fiending for the sunshine to show our love in a good light. Give me reason, I am pleading to the stars. Tell me, what's the point of doing this every night? What you're giving me is nothing but a heartless lullaby... this is the last time. You need to make up your mind."

Gokudera can't seem to find his voice but his expression twists into another scowl and his face can't seem to get any redder. Yamamoto thinks his words haven't had any effect on Gokudera until he cups the back of Yamamoto's head and tilts his own to mesh their lips together in their very first kiss.

Yamamoto is taken aback, Gokudera never kisses him and he won't _allow _Yamamoto to kiss him.

This makes Yamamoto understand. Gokudera isn't good with expressing his feelings. It isn't exactly a confession but it's good enough. Good enough until the time he's ready to tell Yamamoto how he truly feels.

The kiss is long and passionate, their rough tongues slide and clash with one another, biting down on each other's lips and moaning into each other's mouths.

Yamamoto thinks he can handle feeling this way for just a while longer, even if it is just temporary bliss.


	3. III Summer '78 - Yann Tiersen

**III**. **S****ummer '78** \- **Yann Tiersen **

* * *

Gokudera Hayato is a hitman for Italy's largest mafia family, the Vongola. He's sent to Japan in July on an assignment to take out a rival family's drug lord. Upon doing some reconnaissance, he follows his target to a professional baseball game at Koshien Stadium.

Gokudera doesn't care for sports, he's a scientific kind of man. He doesn't pay attention to the teams that are playing but he has located his target and he sits two rows behind him. Careful to not draw attention to himself, he looks out to the field while keeping a cautious eye on the drug lord.

He sees a tall, olive skinned Japanese man step out to the plate, swinging his bat and tapping the dirt off his cleats with it. When he turns, Gokudera notices the back of his baseball uniform is emblazoned with the surname of the player, **YAMAMOTO** and number **78**. He can't see the player's face that well, it's hidden by his helmet but something about his gait and his stance have Gokudera thinking he looks like an agile feline, graceful and lithe in the way that he moves. He doesn't know why but he feels heat spread across his cheeks.

When Yamamoto swiftly swings his bat and connects with the incoming ball with such a force, Gokudera can hear the resounding crack ringing in his ears. The ball goes flying into the outfield and Yamamoto takes off in a burst of speed, kicking up a cloud of dust behind him.

Gokudera can feel his pulse quicken, his heart beat faster as he watches the lean and limber man slide into second base before the opposite team catches the ball. He quickly stands and brushes off his uniform and Gokudera can see his face when he looks up at the crowd and gives them an award winning thousand watt smile.

Yamamoto's eyes scan over the crowd and Gokudera's heart stops when they lock right on to his. He cocks his head to the side, seemingly with a piqued interest. Gokudera wants to look away, his face is burning with embarrassment but he can't tear away his gaze.

Yamamoto then flashes a wide grin, larger than the one he showed the crowd and Gokudera couldn't help but think it was just for _him._

The sound of the bat cracking snaps Gokudera out of his daze and he searches for his target who has now gone missing. He gets out of his seat to find him and it takes him the entire length of the game but he's lost his target.

As he's about to get on his motorcycle, he catches a glimpse of the baseball player, number 78, Yamamoto. He's making his way over to Gokudera and he tries to flee but his body won't move.

"Yo!" He waves, running over. "I saw you in the crowd, I was drawn to your silver hair... it's such a rare colour," Yamamoto says with that annoyingly wide grin.

"It's a medical condition," he lies under his breath.

Yamamoto rubs the back of his neck. "Haha, is that so? I'm Yamamoto Takeshi."

He holds out a hand but Gokudera doesn't shake it.

Yamamoto drops his hand and smiles. "Well, see ya around."

"Doubt it," Gokudera mumbles but as Yamamoto walks away, Gokudera feels regrettably lonely and in a spur of the moment, he makes a reckless decision.

He rides up on his bike, slowing down when he gets to Yamamoto who turns, surprised.

"Name's Gokudera. Gokudera Hayato," he says curtly. He can't hide the heat that creeps across his face and as he moves to take off, Yamamoto calls out to him.

"Can I come see you later?"

Gokudera pauses on his bike and looks back at Yamamoto, eyes wide and mouth open. Yamamoto is there, beaming at him, his hazel eyes bouncing with anticipation.

Gokudera turns his head away but not before smirking at the baseball player.

"Che... look me up!" he calls over the noise of his motorcycle and rides off.

Yamamoto comes to him that night and the next night and the one after that. He's insatiable and Gokudera doesn't know why but this man renders him weak and he hates it. He hates it, but he loves every moment he spends with this baseball idiot.

Gokudera eventually finds the drug lord and finishes the job but he guiltily lies to the tenth and tells him he needs more time to complete his assignment when really it's an excuse to stay in Japan. The tenth grants him his request and he spends the rest of the summer lost in 78.


	4. IV This Could Be Anywhere - Alexisonfire

**IV**. **T****his Could Be Anywhere In The World - Alexisonfire **

* * *

In an alternate universe, the world is plagued with disease and a zombie apocalypse dawns upon the remaining humanity.

Gokudera Hayato, clad in several straps and studded belts heavily adorned with different types of dynamite and other explosives, leads a group of people across Japan, looking for a way to rebuild society. He's not far from a safe haven they've heard so much about when his group runs into another group of survivors led by a tall, Japanese man with a scar on his chin, holding a bat and a katana slung over his shoulder.

They join together because they are going to the same place and because each of their groups is the only other sign of civilization since the beginning.

After talking with the raven haired, hazel eyed man, Gokudera notices that he pisses him off. A lot. He can't stand this man's laugh, his smile or the look in his eyes. He looks like he was happy once and now his cheerfulness is nothing but a facade and Gokudera thinks he's very bad at hiding it.

This man, which Gokudera learns to be Yamamoto Takeshi, was very close to his father and he had to take his father's life when he was turned by a zombie. The katana belonged to his father, who gave it to him with his last dying breath and the aluminum bat was a gift from his father when his Namimori Middle baseball team won their division's championship. The scar on his chin came from a man with long flowing white hair that called himself a shark. It was the only slice he was able to land on Yamamoto as he protected his group from the shark and his gang of bandits that called themselves the Varia.

Despite being brash and despite appearing insensitive, Gokudera feels a pang of sorrow for Yamamoto Takeshi. He's been through a lot and now that he's here, Gokudera can understand why he's not happy anymore and why he tries so hard to save face for the members of their group.

He still dislikes the man, he's fake and annoying and a whole lot of stupid but for some reason Gokudera is drawn to him. Perhaps it's the enigmatic way Yamamoto's behavior seems to change over the course of their journey. He's loud and talkative, despite the many times Gokudera yells at him to shut up because he'll draw attention. He smiles more and they seem genuine, despite how much it annoys Gokudera to see them. He follows Gokudera _everywhere _and says it's just to protect him, because you need a buddy system in the zombie apocalypse, despite the many times Gokudera threatens to blow him up. And when he's near Gokudera he stands _so close_... _so_ _close_ that Gokudera can see the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes, _so close _that Gokudera can feel his hot breath on his skin and it sends a tingle down his spine every time.

Gokudera doesn't like this feeling that he gets when Yamamoto is near, it's confused and muddled and he's not sure what it is. He doesn't want to get close to anyone, he doesn't want to let his guard down because this is the zombie apocalypse. Though they head to a place where they may be safe, all that can change in an instant and he refuses to feel the pain of losing someone again. He's won't open his heart to anyone else, not after tenth person of their group died, his little brother Tsuna.

They approach a large sign that tells them the distance to their safe haven is not far and the group rejoices.

However, the streets are in distress and the sun suffocates beyond darkened skies.

Gokudera says they should camp here for the night and wait out the storm. They do a sweep of the area to make sure there are no zombies, who which the cracks in the pavement match the cracks in their weathered skin.

As they get settled in, Gokudera thinks the lineup seems endless under the salvation sign, he stares in amazement because he can't believe this is where he lives. This city is haunted by ghosts of broken homes and he knows there's no hope left for these souls.

He can't wait to reach the safe haven.

That night is chilly and Yamamoto is beside him and the logical thing to do is get closer for the warmth from his body. He tells himself that but the truth is he wants to be close to him. He wants to feel the warmth on his skin, the roughness of those hands on his body.

He tries to be as subtle an he can because Yamamoto is sleeping and he doesn't want him to wake, catching him in an embarrassing moment.

Except Yamamoto isn't sleeping for he reaches out his arms and pulls Gokudera into his chest and rests his head on his shoulder. Gokudera can't struggle because he'll wake the others but somehow he's okay with not struggling.

He sighs and curls up into Yamamoto, burying his head in his chest, listening to Yamamoto's calm and steady heart.

He thinks this could be anywhere in the world and there's no other place he'd rather be than seeking refuge in the arms of Yamamoto Takeshi.


	5. V Lovesick Fool - The Cab

V. **L****ovesick Fool ****\- The Cab**

* * *

He did it.

He just _had_ to do it.

_Moron. __You just can't keep your mouth shut. _

_Che... it's not my fault, the baseball idiot had it coming. _

_Yeah... is that why you feel so guilty? _

"Ugh, shut up!"

Gokudera Hayato smacked himself in the forehead in hopes of shutting up his inner monologue. He sat on his sofa staring at the wall, smoking like a chimney and furiously twitching his leg. He was so annoyed. So pissed off. Why did the fucking idiot have to say shit like that? And more so... why did he have to look so... defeated after? Like a kicked puppy.

_"Who put that rock in your chest, Gokudera?" _he had asked, with that sorrowful face.

Gokudera had wanted to apologize then but his pride kept him from doing so. It was only because of that face. It made Gokudera pity him and he loathed to pity _anyone. _

When Gokudera hadn't responded, the bastard actually had the nerve to scowl at _him_ like he was the one in the wrong.

"_Ma... I get it_," the idiot said, narrowing his eyes. "_I'll leave then._"

Gokudera hadn't decided if his sudden rage was because of the slick arrogance in the taller man's voice or because he was admitting defeat so easily. Gokudera decided it was both and since this bastard never took _anything _seriously, it was no wonder why he had given up on their relationship - ahem, their _argument_.

"_Finally! I'm glad you let those words sink into that thick fucking skull of yours!_" Gokudera had shouted at him. "_We aren't anything, alright? I'm fucking nothing to you, you're nothing to me, we're not even friends. So good, go ahead and get the fuck out. Good riddance, baseball idiot. Don't fucking come back_."

And the look in the moron's eyes when he said those words dealt his gut a hard and heavy blow, nearly knocking the wind out of him.

That stupid baseball idiot's eyes dropped to the floor and he bit his lip, slowly nodding. "_Aha... you're right, Gokudera. How stupid of me to think that,_" he said, suddenly looking up and smiling.

But it was the wrong kind of smile.

Gokudera smashed the cigarette butt into the table and started pacing the floor.

_You should call him. _

"Ha! Like hell I'd call that idiot."

Gokudera had too much pride to call the stupid baseball idiot. Not only pride, but he wasn't one hundred percent sure that he was at fault here.

In all seriousness, where did that bastard get off, saying things like that to him? Shouldn't he know better than to throw words like that around so loosely? Didn't he know how Gokudera would react?

Gokudera guessed the idiot was too stupid to know the repercussions...

_But did you really have to break up with him for it? _

_Break up with him?! He's not my fucking boyfriend! I don't even like him! _

_If he's not your boyfriend, then what do you call the man you've been kissing, been fucking for the last three years? The ONLY man you've been with, mind you. You're an idiot. _

Gokudera stopped dead in his tracks. "Alright, I'm convinced. Only fucking lunatics have conversations with themselves in their heads... and why does my other voice sound like an arrogant ass? Like _Shamal? _And why the _fuck_ am I still talking to myself?"

Gokudera pulled anther cigarette out of his pack and lit it with a trembling hand. _Wha... why am I shaking like this? _

He shook his head, hit his forehead a few times with the heel of his hand, all in hopes of knocking the voices out and went into his bedroom. Maybe he needed to get drunk, maybe that would solve the problem of the voices in his head... and this... _pain _in his heart.

_You know why it hurts, don't you? _

Putting out the cigarette in the ashtray on the bedside table, Gokudera crawled under his bedsheets and closed his eyes. He hoped the stupid voices would fucking stop and let him think.

He turned over on his side and unconsciously outstretched his arm to wrap around a ghost of a body. His arm fell to the bed and he clutched the bedsheets the way he clutched at his chest.

He's not the same now, something went missing. Around his chest there's a cage, it feels like a prison and behind his ribs is the thing that hurts the most. It wrenched, it twisted, it was barely beating.

"Fuck... " Gokudera uttered in a sharp breath.

_On the bright side, my bed is so much more spacious, _he throught, trying to convince himself with little avail.

_Who are you kidding? Your bed is half empty, not half full. _

Gokudera groaned as the pain in his heart felt like it was slowly being pierced by the dull edge of a blade.

_The baseball idiot's sword? _

_No, it isn't his fau- wait. _

Gokudera sighed. This mental war he was waging was not doing him any justice. It made his fucking head hurt. He can't think logically like this... but when he _really _thought about it, the other half of him knew it wasn't actually the bastard's fault. It was his and he knew it, he just didn't want to admit it.

Leaving himself open and vulnerable wasn't something he was going to do so easily, that's how you got hurt and he didn't want to hurt.

_Idiot... isn't that how you're feeling now? _ _Am I? My heart feels like this because I smoked too much. Gave myself a minor heart attack probably. _

His inner voice scoffed at him. Yes. Scoffed. Gokudera was definitely losing it.

_You're more stupid than the baseball idiot. At least he knows how he feels. Do you know how you feel, asshole? _

"Argh!" Gokudera sat up, extremely annoyed and threw the blankets off himself. "Yeah, I do. I know I'd rather live with broken bones than lay here all on my own like a lovesick fool."

He instantly clapped a hand over his mouth but it was too late to stop the verbal admittance. Somehow that made it more real and that pissed him off.

Gokudera sprang out of bed and rushed out to his living room. He was going to find something distracting to do and forget about that idiot. The thoughts were messing with his head and if he kept this up, he'd be rendered insane and no use to the Tenth and he was _not _going to let that bastard become the Tenth's right hand man in his stead.

"Fuck it," he said decidedly. "Fuck it, fuck him, fuck you... fuck it _all,_" he snarled, slipping on his shoes and throwing on his jacket.

He swung open his front door and the many years spent honing of his senses told him there was someone there.

Before stepping out of the apartment, Gokudera looked down and was met with wide, wet and red-rimmed hazel eyes.

That gut kicking feeling came back again and he felt the oxygen hitch in his throat.

"Yama... moto?" he managed, exhaling a shaky breath.

"Go-Gokudera," the idiot choked. "I- uh, I... Sorry, I just needed a minute." He smiled weakly and rose to his feet. "I'm... ah... I'm going now."

There was that fucking defeated look again. Sad eyes, small knot in his brow and his lips wrenched into an unnatural frown.

"Yamamoto - wait." Gokudera grabbed his wrist and pulled him inside the apartment and shut the door behind them.

He pushed Yamamoto up against the back of the door and kissed him feverishly.

The idiot was hesitant at first but gave in, responding by cupping the back of Gokudera's head and sliding his long, slender fingers through Gokudera's hair. Gokudera couldn't stop his idle hands from trailing along the lean athletic lines of his body.

Gokudera broke free from the heated and frantic kiss, panting and feeling heat coil in his belly. His skin prickled and bumped but was most interesting was the organ behind his ribcage, his heart, no longer stilled. No longer wrenched or twisted or felt like it was being stabbed.

His heart was beating at an accelerated rate, thudding loudly against his chest, his blood rushing in his ears.

The idiot looked down at him and brushed Gokudera's cheek softly with the back of his hand. "I... know you hate it, but I... I love you," he said and the smile that Gokudera had tried to deny he loved slowly returned to Yamamoto's face.

"And I will wait until Gokudera can say it, even if it takes forever," he said, wrapping his fingers around Gokudera's chin and tilting his head upwards.

Gokudera noticed that the voice inside his head had disappeared and he deduced it was because he was no longer divided. That all sides of him were on the same page.

His cheeks got hotter and his heart beat faster but he wasn't in pain anymore. He didn't feel like a lovesick fool. He felt comfortable, content... _in love. _

"Che... you idiot...," he began, pulling Yamamoto in close. "As if I could ever love a baseball freak like you."

And with that, he wrapped his arms around Yamamoto's neck and kissed the bastard, letting the four words he couldn't say pour off his lips.

_I love you, too. _


	6. VI Take Me Out!- FearLoathing Las Vegas

VI. **Take Me Out - Fear, and Loathing in Las Vegas **

* * *

"Take me out."

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Aw, c'mon."

"No!"

"Why not?"

"Che! Because it's bad enough I have to put up with you when we're working, I don't want to have to see your face when I have time off."

"Haha, that's a lie and you know it."

"Shut up, you bastard!"

"Haha! Ow! Haha, that hurt!"

"Not as much as I wanted it to!"

It took a week of begging and pleading for Yamamoto to finally convince Gokudera to take him out somewhere and do something other than sitting in his apartment.

Now the only problem was finding some place to go. Their relationship was still a secret from the others but only because Gokudera wanted it that way. Yamamoto didn't care what anyone else thought, he loved Gokudera and would shout if from the roof tops if Gokudera wouldn't blow him up for it afterwards.

So... staying in town wouldn't be an option. It _wasn't _an option, Gokudera was very clear that they could not be anywhere in Namimori together.

Going for dinner would be boring. They ate dinner together a lot of times with and without the family so it was an ordinary thing. Besides, Gokudera would probably get mad and pout the whole night at the unnecessary ambiance eating dinner by candlelight would create.

Perhaps they could go to a club. Yamamoto had just turned twenty so he was pretty excited to christen this new year actually buying a real drink, rather than stealing his father's saké. And a club would be a fun and energetic atmosphere... although Gokudera would probably have a problem with the high energy and close quarters, threatening to blow up the next person that touched him.

Yamamoto chuckled. He was definitely going to pick a club outside of town, maybe they'd drive to Tokyo. Either way, that kind of atmosphere was bound to get Gokudera riled up and flustered. And Gokudera was _adorable_ when he was flustered.

Saturday night, Yamamoto stood outside a noisy dance club, checking his watch impatiently. Gokudera was never late for anything which made Yamamoto feel like he was being stood up. But what was worse was that the first thought that had entered his mind was that something bad had happened to him. They were mafioso, it was inevitable.

At 7:45 , forty-five minutes late, Yamamoto finally caught a glimpse of Gokudera's car pull up a few buildings down from the club.

Yamamoto was a little annoyed because as usual, Gokudera hadn't answered his phone but he was relieved to see he was okay.

He waved to Gokudera excitedly, taking notice of how breathtakingly handsome he looked.

"Aha, you're late for a change," he said when Gokudera got close.

"Che, tire went flat. This whole night is going to be bothersome," he said with a pout. "We should just go home."

Yamamoto frowned. "C'mon, Gokudera, you _promised_ you'd take me out."

"Will you quit your whining? You sound like a fucking sap."

Yamamoto put on his best, wide eyed pleading face. He knew Gokudera couldn't say no to that face.

"Let's just go inside. Take me out to the dance hall and if you don't like it we can go home, ne?"

Gokudera looked up at him and quirked his mouth, knitting his brows in a subtle scowl. "Fine. One drink and we're gonna go home."

"Okay!" Yamamoto said with a grin, pleased his tactics worked.

Yamamoto stepped to the door and looked back, noticing Gokudera hadn't followed him. He frowned.

"Aren't you coming?" he asked, outstretching a hand.

Gokudera hesitated. "You go in first. Just in case anyone is there that we know. So you know, it doesn't look like we came together."

He looked away and Yamamoto could see the bright pink in his cheeks.

He laughed. "Gokudera, don't be like that. No one we know is going to be there, trust me."

Gokudera scoffed. "I'd have to be as stupid as you to trust you."

Yamamoto laughed again and grabbed Gokudera's wrist. "C'mon!"

He pulled a very defiant Gokudera in through the doors of the club and they were instantly deafened by the loud music.

Yamamoto scanned the room and saw the large, multi-coloured lighted dance floor and nearly jumped. with excitement.

"Whoa! Look at that! Ne, Gokudera, come dance with me!" he said, tugging on the sleeve of Gokudera's open dress tee.

When Gokudera didn't respond he looked over at the smaller man who had on an expression of mock terror and he was beet red in the face. He looked over at Yamamoto with wide, angry eyes.

"Oi... what is this? Is this a... _gay_ club?!" he yelled furiously over the music.

Yamamoto didn't understand what the big deal was so he just shrugged his shoulders and leaned in close so that he didn't have to yell so loudly.

"Gokudera doesn't like being in public together, he doesn't want our friends to know... I just figured you'd be more comfortable in a place where there were people like us."

"Idiot! I'm not gay!"

Yamamoto laughed. "Isn't that what it's called when a man loves another man?"

"Bastard! I don't love you! And you're... you're... you're just you! Argh, we're not staying here. Let's go."

Yamamoto smiled and trailed his hand from Gokudera's sleeve to Gokudera's hand and squeezed it. He could say he didn't love Yamamoto all he wanted, but Yamamoto knew how to read Gokudera by now. It was all in the tone, all in his body language.

"You said one drink," he whispered in Gokudera's ear, purposely brushing his lips along the shell.

He felt a shiver run through Gokudera, just like he knew one would.

Gokudera leaned his head to Yamamoto's mouth and drew in a shaky breath. "One drink... then we're going home," he said, trying to come off stern but Yamamoto knew just that simple little touch was enough to make Gokudera weak in the knees.

He made his way over to the very cool and futuristic looking steel and glass bar top, pulling Gokudera with him.

"What are you drinking?" Yamamoto shouted.

Gokudera scowled.

"Right, right," he said with a laugh. He leaned over the glass top and flagged the bartender down.

"Double whiskey on the rocks and a beer!" he shouted cheerfully.

Yamamoto turned and watched Gokudera silently fume. His hands were shoved into his jeans pockets, driving them down even lower on his hips and because his flimsy, see-through black undershirt had hitched up a little, Yamamoto could see his navel and the fine trail of salt and pepper hair that disappeared into his boxers.

Yamamoto had to bite his lip. Coming here... maybe it wasn't such a good idea, with Gokudera dressing as enticingly scandalous as he does.

"Order up," the bartender announced, sliding the drinks over the counter.

"Sankyuu!" Yamamoto paid for the drinks and handed Gokudera his.

Gokudera's cheeks were flushed and when Yamamoto teased him about blushing he argued that it was because he was hot and that it was too hot in this club.

"It smells like man sweat and sex in here, too," Gokudera complained, leaning against the bar top.

"Really? I can only smell Gokudera's intoxicating cologne."

"Che... you idiot...," he said mildly, hiding a smirk behind his whisky tumbler. "Are you ready to go? I don't like this place. There's too much... too much..."

"Excitement? It's fun! Look at all the people dancing, all the people talking. They all look so happy!" Yamamoto beamed, finishing his beer.

"Exactly. There's too much happiness. We should be at home, waiting in case there's trouble or something... The tenth might need us."

Yamamoto laughed. "You are a fickle man, Gokudera Hayato. It's Saturday night, Tsuna's probably with Sasagawa. You wouldn't want to interrupt their date, ne?"

Gokudera scowled and Yamamoto ordered another round of drinks.

"Oi, I said one drink. _One._"

Yamamoto rolled his eyes. "Have some fun, 'Dera!"

"Don't call me that, you bastard," he growled, snatching his drink out of Yamamoto's hand.

Yamamoto dared to press his body against the sharp curves and lines of his companion's body and whisper in his ear. He could feel new heat rush through Gokudera's skin and he could feel his pulse quicken under his lips when he pressed them against his neck.

"Will you take my hands and dance with me, Hayato?" he purred.

"I... I don't dance," Gokudera said, clearing his throat and standing erect so that Yamamoto had to take a step back. "And... don't call me that," he said, looking out into the crowd on the dance floor.

"Ma... I'm going to dance," Yamamoto said, taking his beer and chugging it.

Gokudera eyed him suspiciously while he ordered another round and paid for their drinks.

"You better not get drunk and act like more of an idiot. I'll leave you here," he threatened.

Yamamoto laughed. "Ma ma, Gokudera's so cruel! Jaa ne!" He waved a hand as he walked our to the dance floor.

Yamamoto didn't know how much time had passed, he didn't care who's elbow he bumped or who rubbed up against him, he was having an amazing time. He was starting to get buzzed from the alcohol and he was on a natural high, soaking it in from the upbeat and ecstatic atmosphere.

He did care that Gokudera stood, leaned up against the bar top drinking away glass after glass of whiskey like he couldn't quench his thirst. He glared at Yamamoto through the crowd but Yamamoto didn't care because every time he danced up to the counter to order another drink, he'd ask Gokudera to join him and every time he said no. But he was starting not to care about _anything_, he was having too much of a good time.

He did care though when another man approached Gokudera. He cared when Gokudera tugged at the collar of his shirt, revealing his alluring pale skin that contrasted against the black tee and almost sparkled in the black lights and the man licked his lips unbeknownst to Gokudera.

He cared when Gokudera shooed the man away with a scowl and probably some very truthful and realistic threat to blow the man up and the man didn't listen, seemingly too drunk to care.

And Yamamoto _definitely _cared when the man put his hands on Gokudera's hips and Gokudera had froze, his eyes blown wide and his face twisted in an expression of horror and disgust.

It didn't take long for Yamamoto to dash over to him, coming in between the two men and _politely _telling the man to get lost and _politely _telling the man he wasn't very friendly when it came to other people touching his things.

The man took a hazy look at the furrowed, high arched brows, narrowed eyes and lips pressed firmly into a straight line and backed away, sauntering off to bother someone else.

Yamamoto turned to Gokudera and he still had that stupified expression in his face.

"What was all that about?" he asked accusingly, jealousy and anger rich in his tone.

Gokudera blinked and looked up at him, registering the tone Yamamoto was using. He scowled furiously. "I'm leaving. That was _f__ucked_. You can stay here and continue _dancing_," he said sourly, turning towards the club exit.

Yamamoto grabbed his wrist and tugged him back. "It's because you're dressed _like this,_" he said, ushering to Gokudera's clothing.

Gokudera pulled free from Yamamoto's grip. "_What?_" he asked angrily. "You're the one that took me here, you idiot. Don't blame me for the actions of these drunken perverts! You think I enjoyed watching you grind up on other guys all night, you inconsiderate bastard?!"

He clamped his mouth shut, shocked with his sudden outburst of truth. He wrenched his brow down and turned to leave again, running away like he always did when he got close to accidentally telling Yamamoto how he really felt.

Yamamoto snapped out of his 'yandere' mode -as Gokudera refers to it- and grabbed on to his wrist again, pulling him into his chest. He would have said '_I asked you to dance, but you said no. I wanted you to be the one I grinded on. I wanted to dance with you until the sun came up.__' _but he knew Gokudera would get angry and turn it into Yamamoto blaming him for what happened and even though Yamamoto still thought he was dressed like... well... a whore for lack of a better word. He knew he should just apologize for everything.

"Sorry, it's just that... you look so sexy and...I- I got jealous and... I only want _you_, Gokudera. Only you." Yamamoto said heatedly in his ear, trailing his hand along Gokudera's spine and daringly gripping his ass.

Gokudera stiffened in his arms. "You... bathroom, _now._"

They stumbled into the bathroom stall together, fervently kissing each other and wildly tugging at each other's hair and clothing.

Yamamoto noticed the other patrons occupying the bathroom didn't seem all that surprised, like it was a natural occurrence for men to come crashing in here drunk in love - or lust, whatever.

He noticed that alcohol _definitely _inhibits Gokudera's ability to think straight because he didn't seem that concerned with the fact that there were other people in the bathroom.

He also discovered Gokudera gave amazing blowjobs when he was inebriated and he guessed it was due to his drunken lack of self restraint and pride at this point.

And as he thrust hard into Gokudera up against the steel partition of the bathroom stall, he noticed that when free and lax, Gokudera could sound like erotic and wanton, his voice loose and husky and his moans were silky and sultry, not to mention _loud. _

And when they came, Yamamoto's knees became weak and he crashed onto the toilet seat, bringing Gokudera with him.

Yamamoto panted heavily and was covered in sweat and Gokudera was hiding his face in the crook of his neck, muttering in Italian. He stroked Gokudera's hair and kissed his temple.

Gokudera pushed himself into a sitting position and winced at the uncomfortableness of having Yamamoto still inside him, leaning back against the toilet in an awkward position.

He looked at Yamamoto incredulously and shook his head.

Yamamoto guessed he had sobered up a little.

"I'm never taking you out again."

* * *

**A/N:**

**Okay, so I've noticed these have stopped being drabbles and more like oneshots lol. But who cares, right? it's 8059. I hope you guys are enjoying them!**


	7. VII Secrets - One Republic

**Author's Note:**

**This is the longest one so far, it was meant to be a drabble but turned into a mini story, lol. Anyways, it's long so I hope you like it. This moment takes place in the Future arc after Lal, Tsuna and Gokudera meet up wit TYL (Ten Years Later/24 year old) Yamamoto.**

* * *

**VII. Secrets - One Republic**

* * *

_Ognuno ha segreti..._

_Dare mo ga himitsu o motte iru..._

_Everyone has secrets._

Gokudera Hayato is no exception to the rule. He's brutally honest and refuses to lie but there are plenty of skeletons in his closet.

Most of the time he doesn't talk about them because he is guarded and closed in, he will not speak of his past.

Other times is of convenience. There's a lot to his life now and before that no one needs to know. It saves him from the judgemental glares and toxic tongues of people who think they know better, think they _are _better despite the fact that everyone has secrets.

Gokudera's past is a secret, his feelings are a secret and his future is a secret.

At least it was supposed to be.

Somewhere in between the time that the thick cotton candy smoke of the bazooka enveloped him and spit him out, he caught a glimpse of his future. A future that wasn't meant to be revealed, something to be kept a secret.

Gokudera was a logical and scientific person even at the age of fourteen. He needed reasons and hypothesises, deductions and formulas to make sense of the world. Though he had stopped being tutored at the age of eight, he never stopped teaching himself. The six years he spent after that living on the streets he had sharpened his skills, his senses and his mind.

So it was safe to assume he understood what knowing the future meant. He knew that changing even one miniscule detail could cause a ripple in time, affecting each stretch of time and space, leaving chaos in its wake.

* * *

The second he had seen the baseball idiot's face, he had cringed. He felt bile rising in the back of his throat and his gut wrenching in painful knots.

He wasn't the present's baseball idiot. He was the future Vongola Rain Guardian, Yamamoto Takeshi. There was an air of arrogance surrounding him as he slung his katana up on his shoulder and proclaimed help had arrived.

His voice grated on Gokudera's nerves and he could feel anger bubble inside him. For various reasons.

Number one, the most important reason was this whole situation. He wasn't stupid, he hadn't told the tenth, but he knew the reason he had woken up in the sleek, black coffin with the Vongola crest emblazoned on the surface. It meant he had failed the tenth as a right hand man and it meant that Yamamoto Takeshi had failed as well. Of course he had failed, he had never taken the mafia seriously.

Following him back to the base, all Gokudera could do was burn holes in the back of the older Yamamoto with his heated glare.

_"You were good too, Gokudera," _he had said with a smile.

The smile was unnatural, it wasn't the baseball idiot's smile. And what was worse was that Gokudera interpreted those words with a completely different meaning.

Because he knew a secret. He knew something he wasn't supposed to know and it was beginning to eat away at his sanity.

_You were good too, Hayato._

* * *

He hauled off and decked the ten years later version of the baseball idiot.

"You bastard! What were you doing? Why did _that _happen to the tenth?!"

"Gokudera-kun!"

Yamamoto's eyes swept to the floor as a stream of blood trickled from the corner of his lip down his chin.

"I'm sorry," he said defeatedly.

_I'm sorry, Hayato... it... we... we should have been there to protect him._

_Hayato! You can't keep blaming yourself. Come back and we'll fix this... we'll make it right._

* * *

Later that night, Gokudera lay awake because he didn't want to close his eyes. If he closed his eyes he'd be forced to see images form around the disembodied voice that he's been hearing everywhere, like static background noise, since he landed in the future.

He had already seen it once when the fog of the bazooka was it's thickest and he moved through the wormhole.

_Hayato.._.

The voice was silky and sultry, kind of playful. It was a _man's _voice, calling his given name with such familiarity.

Despite the want, the _need _to stay awake, sleep was wrapping its lethargic tendrils around him, gently coaxing him to close his eyes, steady his breathing.

_"Hayato... _" _the voice calls, only Gokudera can now feel the heated breath that goes with it. He feels it, hot and wet against his hip bone. He feels the vibration of the hum coming from lips pressed against his thigh._

_He feels large and unfamiliar hands trace invisible paths along his chest and torso. He feels his own body shudder when something rough and damp slides along his abdomen._

The image doesn't come clear, it's just a hazy blur, like his eyes are plagued with milky cataracts. However, Gokudera can see outlines, outlines of a man hovering over him with broad shoulders and dark hair and... sun kissed skin.

He can't see details but his sensory system is in overdrive and the touches to his skin are electric.

_There's hands on his hips, pressing into his flesh and the nails dig into his skin. The man is below Gokudera now and he still can't get a good look at his face but this unrecognizable feeling he has balloons under his ribcage, it makes his heart race _ _and his body tingle._

_He's aware of a dull, throbbing pain but it also feels good, way too good and it makes Gokudera feel light headed and dizzy. His heart races, there's a heat coiling in his groin and it's coming undone and he feels a wave of euphoria._

_He feels the rough, calloused hands slide up his sides, thumbs rubbing over each rib until the strong arms push him down towards the man. Gokudera squints, he tries so hard to see the man's face now that he's so close._

_But all he hears is a moan and his name followed by 'I love you...'_

Gokudera bolts upright with a strangled cry caught in his throat. For a mind jarring moment he can't remember where he is or how he got there.

Now that he's awake he can't remember much of that dream... nightmare... memory... he wasn't quite sure what to call it but it was the same vision he had seen traveling through the space continuum of the bazooka.

_Everyone has secrets._

He gets up to search the base, everything is cold and unfamiliar. He's not sure of where he's going but he's determined it isn't back to sleep.

He doesn't want to know who the man is. He doesn't want to know why he was naked with another man, feeling his hot breath, wet tongue and rough hands against his skin.

He feels confused, he feels disgusted, he feels sick to his stomach but he feels kind of happy and satisfied - remnants of emotions he felt in the memory.

"Hayato- uh, Gokudera?"

A cold shiver rippled down his spine. He froze dead in his tracks, not willing to turn around but his body moved to its own accord. He turned until he was starting into the sad and sullen eyes of the ten years older baseball idiot.

No, this wasn't his era's baseball idiot. This man was a man who failed the tenth, failed the family, failed _him._

His mouth opened and words flew out.

"What did you just call me?" he asked, almost choking on the words. That familiar taste of bile was back again, slicking over his tongue and threatening to cause the purge of the contents from his stomach.

Yamamoto laughed nervously and Gokudera felt the uncontrollable urge to punch him again. This laugh was wrong too. Everything about this Yamamoto was _wrong._

"Sorry... old habits die hard," he said with another false laugh.

Gokudera grit his teeth so hard they hurt. "Old... habits? I would _never_ let you call me by my first name. I don't even _like _you, there's no way we'd be that friendly," he snarled, reaching for his cigarettes.

"Yeah, you're right. Sorry about that, haha...Oh, you shouldn't smoke that in here," Yamamoto said.

"Che, what are you, my fucking father? Don't tell me what to do, old man." Gokudera brought the cigarette to his lips and Yamamoto rushed over to pluck the cigarette from his mouth.

"You _can't _smoke that in here," he repeated sternly. "It messes with the Anti Tri-Ni-Sette barrier Giannini-san put up to protect the kid."

Gokudera looked into his eyes. They were the right colour but there was no light in them. He looked pitiful and sad and lonely.

Things that reflected in Gokudera's eyes when he was alone. But that was a secret.

Before he knew it, his mouth was working again.

"What's wrong with your face?" he said acidly.

Yamamoto stepped back, startled. He rubbed the back of his neck and laughed nervously. _Falsely._

"You mean this?" he asked, pointing to the deep scar on his chin, raising a brow.

While Gokudera was partially curious as to how he got that scar, the other part of him that liked talking against his will was more interested in other things.

"No, you idiot-" Gokudera noticed a shift in Yamamoto's eyes, a softening in his expression. "- I'm talking about your eyes. Your face. Your smile, your laugh. Everything is _wrong._ What happened to you?"

He was uncomfortable, he really needed a cigarette. Why the hell was he standing here talking to this bastard? He really just wanted to blow him the -

"Ah... I can't tell you, Hay-Gokudera. You know that-"

_Everyone has secrets._

"Whatever, I don't give a shit what happened to you anyways. Serves you right to be feeling like that after what happened to the tenth. I hope the ten years later me hates you even more than I hate you right now," he sneered. He wanted to punch him again, so bad. Punch him in the face until he couldn't see that look of regret and sadness in his eyes anymore.

Yamamoto looked down at the floor and sighed. "He probably does... I wouldn't know, but I can guess that's why he's never around."

"Good," Gokudera remarked curtly. "He doesn't want to see that look on your face. He loathes it, just as much as I do." There he goes again, saying things he doesn't want to say. Especially to this idiot.

"You're right..." Yamamoto looked down at him and smiled. "Anyway, you should get some rest. We have to look for the other guardians tomorrow." He turned and began to walk away but then he stopped and turned back and smiled. It sort of looked real but it was... sad.

"It's nice to be able to see you again, Gokudera. I've really missed you."

Something shifted in his eyes again and Gokudera felt a twisting knot form in his stomach, his mouth went dry and his head was starting to hurt.

_I've really missed you, that assignment was way too long. _ _I've... been so lonely... Come here..._

_I want to see your face, Hayato. I haven't seen it for so long..._

_Hayato... I love you..._

That voice and a different memory. Those sounds... those _moans_ sent shivers down his spine.

Gokudera clutched his head that now felt like it was going to split open. He sank to his knees in the middle of the corridor and his vision swam.

_There are fingers on his back, mapping the lines and curves of his shoulder blades, fingertips bumping off each individual vertebrae in his spine. He can feel a shiver run through him._

_He feels hot and sticky and wet but relieved and tired and satisfied._

_Then he feels hot lips on his neck, on his shoulder as an arm wraps around him and -_

"Gokudera!"

Gokudera's eyes flutter open and he's face to face to with baseball idiot. No. He's just an idiot.

He's startled and he scurries away quickly, unable to meet Yamamoto's eyes.

Because the voice in the memory is becoming clearer, he's almost certain he knows who it is and it makes him sick. Literally.

He throws up on the floor in the corridor until there's nothing left in his stomach and he's just wretching and coughing and gagging.

"Ha-Hayato?"

Gokudera whips his head around to face Yamamoto, his eyes are as wide as can be, his pupils blown and his mouth is twisted into a sneer.

"Don't call me _that,_" he growled, wiping spit off his lips with the back of his hand. "Just don't say it!"

Yamamoto furrowed his brow in confusion. "Are you alright? I'll take you to the infirmary-"

"No. No... no... don't come near me. You stay the fuck away from me." His voice trembled cowardly.

Yamamoto narrowed his eyes and they went dark. Gokudera has never seen this look in his eyes before. He looks jaded, he looks serious, he looks _different._

He makes his way over to Gokudera and grabs onto his shirt, slamming him into the wall. A hollow thud sounded when Gokudera's head hit it.

"Enough," he says harshly. It doesn't even sound like Yamamoto. "You're going to the infirmary, you're going to get some rest because you _need _to help Tsuna fix this! Everything on this end is in pieces and you guys are the only hope we have at a better future. Tell me, is this what you want for your future? Forget about fixing us, but do you really want to be in a-"

"Us...?" Gokudera choked. He had a white knuckle grip on Yamamoto's hands that held his shirt.

Yamamoto blinked and released his grip on Gokudera's shirt. "I uh... It's nothing. Go get some rest or you'll be useless to us tomorrow." He turned and shoved his hands into his pockets. He started to walk away, taking long and quick strides down the corridor.

Gokudera's curiosity got the better of him and he chased after Yamamoto, grabbing his arm tightly. "What do you mean, fixing _us_? What the fuck are -"

Yamamoto looked down at Gokudera, his eyes looked tired, his olive skin looked weathered and he looked too old for his age. He sighed.

"I just meant that no one is happy with this future, now that... Tsuna's gone."

"No, you didn't. I can hear it, there's something else in your voice when you speak to me. I can see it, there's something else in your eyes when you look at me." He paused. He didn't know what he was doing, what he was _saying _and why he couldn't just shut his mouth. He didn't want to know. _He didn't want to know._

"You keep calling me by my first name. Just what am I to you?" he blurted out, completely and utterly against his will because the concious Gokudera didn't want to know the answer.

Yamamoto drew in a shaky breath and his eyes looked glossy and wet. Lines creased in the outer corners when he smiled. He lifted a hand to Gokudera's cheek, nearly covering the whole side of his face and slowly slipped his hand through his hair. Gokudera found he was leaning into his arm, his cheek resting on Yamamoto's inner wrist.

His skin felt warm, felt familiar and smelled familiar. Gokudera could feel some indescribable emotion filling him, feeling a warmth spread throughout his chest. Like this was comfortable, this was safe. Being here with _Yamamoto _was safe.

"Say it," he whispered in a voice he wasn't sure was his own. He felt dazed and confused and it was only made worse when Yamamoto leaned in so that his face was inches from Gokudera's. It made his head spin.

"I... I can't..."

Gokudera felt himself slipping from consciousness but he was still awake. It was like he was watching himself and Yamamoto through another set of eyes but still through his point of view. It confused him and he felt like he wasn't himself anymore, but he was. It made his head hurt and he felt nauseous.

He felt his heart pound against his chest, felt a flutter in his stomach and a tingle run from the top of his spine to the tips of his toes. He suddenly felt like he had become weightless, feathery light.

He squeezed his eyes shut and he could hear a buzzing in his ears. There was now a panic rising from the depths of his stomach but somehow, Yamamoto's touch seemed to calm him. He wasn't sure what what was happening, he wasn't sure what he was feeling and he knew he no longer had a grasp on the control in this situation.

His body started moving without his consent and he reached out and traced the scar on Yamamoto's chin, then slid his hand over the twenty-four year old's cheek.

"Say it," he whispered again and this time, the voice was huskier, deeper but undeniably his. "_Takeshi_," he breathed.

He felt Yamamoto's grip tighten in his hair and heard in draw in a sharp breath.

And then Gokudera kissed him.

Yamamoto's lips were soft and full beneath his. The touch of these lips are natural, like he's known the feel of them for quite some time.

Yamamoto is hesitant at first but he gives into temptation and returns the kiss, pressing his lips harder against Gokudera's in some sort of wild desperatation.

Gokudera is feeling this kiss, horrified and disgusted and the fourteen year old him wants to blow this guy up into a million pieces, he doesn't care if he goes along with him, it'll be worth it to save him the embarrassment and the effect this is going to have on his psyche. The feeling is strange because he's there but he's not, he senses everything but _he's _not actually touching anything. It's like watching your reflection in a mirror, except it's in Gokudera's mind's eye, because he hasn't opened his yet. He won't.

But that's when he realizes that somehow, the ten years later version of him is trying to push through the effects of the bazooka. It only makes sense since he's the right hand man and he's not going to be lazing around in his apartment waiting for a bunch of fourteen year old kids to save the future. What _doesn't _make sense is why the ten years later version of himself is reacting like this to Yamamoto, why he seems to responding to his touch and calling him by his first name.

And that's when it hits him, what the memories are. This moment he fully understands what he saw and felt in the bazooka. He understands _everything _now.

Somewhere in the future he has a relationship with the baseball idiot, somewhere in _this_ future but if they changed it, then maybe Gokudera can save himself from this disgusting fate of ending up with someone who he despises.

Except as he forces his tongue in between Yamamoto's lips and he wraps his arms around his neck and curls his fingers into Yamamoto's hair, the sensation of it all feels good. It feels _right_. And he can't deny how the older man is making him feel right now.

Gokudera doesn't want to stop kissing him, Yamamoto's tongue feels good against his, the taste of Yamamoto is nostalgic. He doesn't want to stop because for some reason it feels like he hasn't kissed him in a long time, he feels desperate and sad and lonely.

But Yamamoto must guess that his version of Gokudera, his _Hayato_, is only a mirage and he breaks free from the kiss, despite the want Gokudera reads in his eyes.

And with a jarring electric shock, he's back to himself with nothing but a bad headache and tingling feeling running through his body. The other emotions he feels are confusing and he thinks one of them might be true happiness, a different kind of happiness then when he's with the tenth.

"Shit! I-I'm s-sorry, Gokudera. I uh...you, uh... You just reminded-"

"Don't apologize," he said abruptly, looking away and feeling heat creep into his cheeks. He was quiet for a long time and Yamamoto was too, waiting for Gokudera's explosion, he guessed. Except the thought hadn't crossed his mind. He was too focused on what had just happened, working out logical details of everything he had just witnessed now and since this whole fuck show started. There's only one question on his mind, really, that he wants an answer too. Something that will determine his future.

"But answer me at least this... am I... happy?"

Yamamoto looked at him, surprised and scratched the back of his neck. "No one is happy -"

"I mean with you, idiot. Is the ten years later me happy... with you?"

Gokudera saw tears welling up in his eyes and a semi-shocked look on his face. He kind of half smiled and this time it looked more genuine. He sighed but it sounded like relief instead of sadness.

"Yes... you were- _we_ were very happy... before this happened. You left to find answers and because you're so angry at yourself. And everyone else. You haven't come back but I wish you would because I want to help you, I... I miss you, a lot... Haha, sorry, I'm rambling. I need to talk to my Gokudera about all this. You need to get some rest so he can clear your head." He smiled that same sad smile Gokudera's been seeing since he got here and now he understands why.

Gokudera stood there for a long time and he wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't sure how he was going to face the baseball freak when he got back home.

Turning on his heel without another word, he walked back to his room and left Yamamoto standing in the hallway. He curled up in his bed and listened to the steady breathing of the tenth above him.

Gokudera brought his fingers up to his lips, the tingle still lingered on them. When he thought of the memories he wasn't so horrified by them, instead he tried to let go and let himself feel the emotion that came along with the image. This time he could see it better, Yamamoto's face and his _real_ smile, the one that reached his eyes. He could feel his touch better and hear his voice better, like he was reliving that moment. For whatever reason, the bazooka had malfunctioned in more ways than just one and Gokudera knew he should probably tell Reborn-san that his ten year later self was able to push through somehow, just for a minute but he decided not to. If he was truly happy in the future, before the death of the tenth, then he might have already messed it up by knowing about it, and it would be better than no one else knew. Gokudera figured he would continue to hate the baseball idiot until that time came, when he stopped hating Yamamoto and started loving him instead.

So he would keep this little secret because if no one else knew, then he'd still might have a chance at true happiness, right after he killed the bastards that killed the tenth and fixed the future. The most important thing was bringing the tenth back to life, but Gokudera was determined to fix things so that his ten year later self wouldn't run away all the time, especially when he had the chance to experience true happiness for once.

_Everyone has secrets._


	8. VIII Airplanes - BOB

VIII. **Airplanes - B.O.B featuring Hayley Williams **

* * *

"Gokudera look! It's a shooting star!"

Gokudera looked over at Yamamoto incredulously. "Are you an idiot? That's an airplane."

"Oh, really? Haha."

Yamamoto and Gokudera were sprawled out in a grassy meadow in a forest outside of Namimori, exhausted. They had been training for eight hours straight on orders from Reborn, who forced them to train together after hearing the way they worked together while fighting Gamma.

Neither one of them could move, so they just laid on their backs, staring at the moonlit sky.

"Ah... could we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars...? I could really use a wish right now," Yamamoto said whimsically and to no one in particular.

The boys were silent for a while until Gokudera let out an exasperated sigh.

"Alright, let's hear it," he said.

"Eh? Hear what, 'Dera?"

"Che! I told you not to call me that. Your wish, idiot."

"My wish?"

Gokudera sat up and looked down at Yamamoto, fist clenched and shaking with comical violence. "Yes, you bastard, that's what I just said! Have you taken too many fly balls to your head?"

Yamamoto laughed. "Sorry, sorry. Gokudera wants to hear my wish, huh...?"

Gokudera rolled his eyes and pouted. "Not really, but I'm sure you're going to tell me anyways, so we might as well get it over with."

Yamamoto looked over at Gokudera and smiled. "I wish... to be with... Gokudera."

Gokudera's face turned red and his eyes blew wide. "Haa... haa... idiot... you're... you're already here with me." He turned his head to look in the opposite direction.

Yamamoto put his hands behind his head and looked up at the sky. "No... I wish to be with Gokudera forever... "

He closed his eyes and got ready for the oncoming slew of curses and insults but nothing came. Gokudera was uncharacteristically quiet.

"Gokudera...?"

He heard movement beside him and figured he had made Gokudera uncomfortable so he was probably going to leave. Yamamoto decided that he wouldn't say anything more and save him further embarrassment. After all, a guy had just kinda sorta confessed his love for him so he probably needed time to process that.

Suddenly he felt a weight on top of him and his eyes fluttered open and were blown wide when he seen it was Gokudera straddling him.

His face was bright red and he had on an expression of uncertainty.

"Go-Gokudera? What... what are you-"

Gokudera leaned forward and was so close to Yamamoto, he could smell the smoky tabacco on his breath when he spoke.

"Shut up and kiss me, idiot."

So Yamamoto did, and he thought to himself that airplane or not, the wish he made onthat s hooting star really did come true.


	9. IX DTM - Simon Curtis

**IX. D.T.M [Dead to Me] - Simon Curtis **

* * *

"That's all for today, Gokudera-kun... Thank you."

"Thank you, Juudaime! I'll have all the data on your desk first thing tomorrow morning!"

"Gokudera-kun... That's really not necessary. In fact, take the day off. You've been working too much and I know it must be hard... for you to not be with Yamamoto. I do know that's why you've been immersed in your work, you must miss him. He's been gone a month."

"Che! I do _not_ miss anything about that annoying guy," Gokudera spat, lighting a cigarette. And even though he never lied to the tenth, he'd never actually admit to anyone out loud that he in fact did miss Yamamoto.

"Shamal called earlier. He said you should go meet him for a drink. Why don't you do that, take your mind off things?"

"Please don't worry about me, Juudaime! I promise you I'll get some rest... but I'll be damned if I spend five minutes with that pervert while drunk."

Tsuna laughed. "Alright, alright. Take care, Gokudera-kun. I have to go, I'll be late for dinner with Kyoko."

"Oh, of course! Please excuse me, Juudaime!"

"Good night, Gokudera-kun."

"Good night, Juudaime!"

The truth was, Gokudera hated to be alone and he hated it more when Yamamoto was gone. Despite his annoyances, he had become an important part of his life. Gokudera, of course, would never admit that or the fact that he loved the idiot to anyone else. He didn't even like admitting it to himself.

He tried to waste time as much as he could, finishing the paperwork he was supposed to have handed in two days from now on the tenth's desk. By the time he got home it was already close to midnight and the lights where on in the house.

"Yamamoto...?" he asked himself. He felt a surge of excitement and anxiety all at once and he practically ran up the long driveway. Of course, he ran because if it wasn't Yamamoto then there was an intruder in the house, not because he was happy to see the bastard or anything.

He ran past their large bay window and stopped dead in his tracks. He took a minute to register the image he had seen and shook his head, figuring his eyes had been deceiving him. Slowly walking backward, he peered in through the window and was instantly stupefied.

His heart leaped into his throat, his stomach plummeted to the flagstone walkway and the air he was about to exhale had become trapped under his heart.

He saw Yamamoto on the couch, shirtless with his head thrown back and eyes closed. His hands clutched the sofa cushions in a bloodless grip. His face was contorted into one of pain or pleasure but guessing by the mass of long, flowing white hair in between his legs it was probably the latter.

Gokudera grit his teeth and bit back the overwhelming urge to vomit and blow his house up along with the swindling, cheating back-stabbing bastard inside.

He stormed down the driveway and got into his car, slamming the door as loud as he could to announce his arrival slash departure. He pulled out of the driveway and drove blindly down the streets of Namimori, clenching his teeth so hard his jaw began to hurt.

But he didn't care because nothing could possibly be hurting more than his heart.

He crashed into his office clutching his chest. His lungs ached and he couldn't breathe, he felt sick to his stomach and his eyes burned. But he wasn't going to cry. No. Not for that bastard, he didn't deserve _anything_ from him.

Gokudera cracked open an aged whiskey he had been saving for better times and drowned his anger and pain in it. He drank until he couldn't see Yamamoto's face, twisted with the expression he knew so well because it was the same expression he wore when he came when they fucked. He drank until he couldn't see that head of white hair anymore, in so close and familiar of a position. He drank until he couldn't think anymore, couldn't see straight anymore and finally, couldn't stay awake anymore.

The next morning he was woken up by the slam of his office door.

"Hayato?"

Gokudera groaned. "Get out, you bastard." He felt a little drunk still and he didn't need to open his eyes to know that sniveling rat's voice.

"Haha, did I miss something? I thought I heard you come home last night-"

"I said to get out," he said groggily.

Gokudera heard movement coming towards him. He opened his eyes and forced himself to sit up. He didn't want the bastard to get any closer to him but he couldn't look him in the face because then it'd be a painful reminder of last night and he didn't want to cry. He didn't want to show Yamamoto the hurt and the pain that inflicted him.

"You were... drinking last night?" Yamamoto asked quizzically.

Gokudera heard him pick up the empty bottle and then set it back on the desk.

"Hayato... is everything alright?"

"Get out. Leave. Just fuck off somewhere," he muttered.

Yamamoto moved towards him.

"Don't... don't come any closer. Get out of my office."

"Eh...? Really, I don't understand-"

Gokudera was feeling too many things but the only emotion he knew how to translate was anger and it was riling up inside him like a pot of hot water over boiling on a stove.

"Of course you don't understand, you don't understand anything, you fucker!" he shouted, looking up into the wide and surprised hazel eyes. And sure enough, memories of the night before flashed before Gokudera's eyes.

"Ma, ma... calm down and tell me what you're talking about," Yamamoto crooned, easing in closer.

Gokudera stood and got ready to throw a punch. Or a stick of dynamite. "I _saw_ you last night," he said through clenched teeth. "Through the window."

"Huh?" Yamamoto looked genuinely confused, which only made Gokudera want to kill him more.

"You... you and that noisy fucking _shark, _you fucking bastard. You make me fucking sick. I can't even look at you. Get the fuck out of my face before I blow you the fuck up. So help me God, I'll fucking do it."

"Me and... Squalo?"

"Don't say his name, you fucker!" he screamed, shoving Yamamoto backward. His voice came out high and shrill. He didn't think he'd be able to contain any of these emotions any longer but he couldn't let Yamamoto see... his pain.

"Haya-"

"Don't call me that," he said calmly. "No more familiarities between us anymore. As far as I'm concerned, you're dead to me."

Gokudera's words looked like they had just like right effect on Yamamoto because he had that look like he had just been smacked by a brick wall and kicked in the gut. Gokudera probably would have smirked if he wasn't so angry.

"Now, you fucking snake... get out of my office. We're done."

"But... but... Gokudera, I... I really don't know what you're talking about..._ How could you say that_?"

"How... could _I _say that? How could _you _do what you did?! How could you just ... just throw me into the fire like you weren't concerned? How could you do that... In _our _house?!"

Yamamoto's face was twisted into confusion and his mouth was drawn into an unnatural frown. "What... what did I do?"

Gokudera saw red and threw a punch, connecting with the edge of Yamamoto's jaw. "I saw it... I saw _him_ sucking you off, you bastard! Don't fucking play dumb, this isn't a game! My heart, my feelings... us... it's not a fucking game, okay?!"

Yamamoto worked his jaw and narrowed his eyes. "You think... you think I cheated on you?"

Gokudera scoffed. "You're unbelievable. If that wasn't cheating, then I must be pretty fucking stupid too." Seeing that Yamamoto wasn't going to leave and he was seriously on the verge of blowing him up but couldn't because it would upset the tenth, he moved past Yamamoto so that he could leave. He couldn't stand the look of him anymore.

Yamamoto grabbed on to his wrist and forcefully tugged him back.

Gokudera growled. "Let go of me, you bastard! Don't touch me with the same hands you used to touch _him_!"

Yamamoto grabbed onto Gokudera's other wrist to ensure he wouldn't get punched again and used it to reel him in. He wrapped his arms around him tightly and used all of his strength to contain Gokudera's wild thrashing.

"Gokudera... Gokudera... Gokudera! Just stop shouting and listen to me!"

"No! I don't want to hear your lame ass excuses. Your lies! I've told you we're done, you're dead to me! You hear that, you bastard?! DEAD!"

"Shh... I love Gokudera-"

"Lies!" he snarled. "You told me it was love, I would always be enough but you lied! Don't say such things to people if you don't mean them!" He could feel it... the hot sting of tears. Fuck. He didn't want to cry.

Yamamoto released his death grip from around Gokudera long enough to grab his hand and place it over his heart.

"Do you feel that? Do you feel the way my heart beats for Gokudera?"

"That... that doesn't mean-"

"Yes, it does. It means everything. It means I love Gokudera and _only_ Gokudera."

"Pfft, you don't have to love someone to fuck them," he muttered acidly.

"No... but I didn't do anything with Squalo - and before you start screaming and punching just listen to me. When we were on our way back to the base, we got attacked by a few Black Spell members. Lussuria was taken out and I was shot three times. Once in the stomach, once in my hip and once in my thigh. What you saw... what you saw last night was Squalo pulling the bullets out of my wounds and stiching me up."

"You're a fucking liar."

"Gokudera, look!" Yamamoto lifted the hem of his dress shirt up over the waist of his slacks and hooked a thumb into the waistband, pulling the pants down. Sure enough, there were gauze bandages covering the lower right quadrant of Yamamoto's abdomen and another on his hip bone.

"Then... why were you doing this at home?"

"Because we didn't want to lead them back to the base and by the time we lost them, we were closer to home and Squalo said I needed to get the bullets out."

"Wouldn't it have been easier to lie down in bed while he extracted the bullets?"

"Gokudera... I would never take another man into our bedroom. That place is ours, where we make love. I wouldn't sully the bed sheets with my blood of war." He ran his hands through Gokudera's silver hair and leaned in so they were level with each other's eyes. "I love you."

Gokudera chewed on the bottom of his lip, processing all the information. He couldn't let this bastard off that easy just because he said the three little words that made an electric current shoot through him every time he heard them but he really be mad at the idiot, could he?

He wasn't going to apologize, he isn't going to tell Yamamoto those same three words. He decides to grab hold of the back of Yamamoto's head, curling his fingers into his soft, black hair and smashes their lips together in a angry and desperate kiss. His tongue quickly darts past parted warm lips in search for an unfamiliar taste, the taste of a shark.

Instead Yamamoto tastes saccharine, like he always does. Like sweet shari rice and strawberry milk.

Yamamoto breaks free from the kiss first, panting and smiling. Gokudera loves to hate that smile.

He takes one of Gokudera's hands in his and places it over his heart again. "Do you feel it beating, Hayato? That rhythm is just for you. The only time my heart will ever stop beating like this for you _is _when I'm dead."

Gokudera clutched Yamamoto's shirt and rested his head on his shoulder, listening to the sure and steady thumping resonating throughout his chest. He hid his face in the silky fabric and smiled. He couldn't deny that he loved that sound, he couldn't deny that he loved that guy. He couldn't deny that the second Yamamoto walked through his office door, he had been ready to forgive him regardless of what he had done because he couldn't imagine a life without him. Sometimes loving Yamamoto Takeshi made him feel like an

"Idiot..."


	10. X Never too Late - Three Days Grace

**X. Never Too Late / Wake Up [Mash Up] - Three Days Grace**

* * *

_This world will never be what I expected... and if I don't belong... who would have guessed it?_

"You aren't cut out for this world," he spits. His green eyes glare intently.

"I know," you say. "But still... I want to be here. For Tsuna, for my friends... for you." Why you categorize him separately, you're not sure. Probably because he was never your friend, in his opinion, and to you he's more than that.

"You're an idiot..."

You know this, but it doesn't change the way you feel. You're an idiot about a lot of things but at least you know how you feel, you're not lost like he is. You're confident in yourself and your decisions. "I know."

"You're weak and stupid and lack focus. You don't even have the heart to kill."

You laugh. "It's just a game right? Who would I have to kill? Haha."

"Fuck you," he grounds out and you watch him storm away, some sort of pang in your chest. You can't understand why he's so angry with you but something inside you wants to prove him wrong. Something inside you strives to be a better man... the man _he_ wants you to be.

* * *

"This world will never be what you expected, you don't belong. Don't second guess it."

You laugh. He's always telling you that you don't belong here. "The kid doesn't think so."

"Maybe... but I do. You're too... you're too..." He lets out an exasperated sigh. "You can't even fight with the sharp edge of your sword. What the fuck do you hope to accomplish with that? This isn't a game, this universe isn't for the weak hearted. Sometimes you have to do the unthinkable, and you can't handle that."

He always puts you down and the insults were harsh at first but you've come to understand him a little. Behind his fortitude, behind that impregnable guard is genuine concern. At least this is what you tell yourself. It doesn't sting that much when you do.

You can almost confuse it with him actually caring about you, but you can't ever let yourself get used to that idea because if you did the feelings that held heavy in your heart like lead would become impossible to bear anymore. So you laugh it off like you do everything else only to further irritate him but at least he's back to insulting your intelligence instead of awkwardly lecturing about the path you've chosen.

But after a long silence, he stills and his eyes fall on you. There's something in them, and you're not sure what it is but you like it. That nameless emotion gives you just the tiniest sliver of hope, but it's good enough.

"I think... The tenth thinks it's a good idea. It's never too late."

You smile and cock your head quizzically. "Never too late for what, Gokudera?"

"Never too late to get outta the game. You can't handle it. This isn't baseball-"

"Have you ever killed someone?"

He bites his lip and scowls. He hates being interrupted but he also hates talking about himself, especially to you. However you know this time he'll tell you because it'll prove his point.

"Yes. I have."

"How many?"

"That isn't important," he says sharply, lighting a cigarette.

"I want to know," you say urgently, walking up behind him and encircling your arms around his small waist. "Tell me."

You think for a minute he'll scold you for the touch, the closeness, but no one is around and he's okay with that. There's no name for what you have and you're okay with that too. Anything to just be able to touch him, smell him... be with him. You've wanted to since the first time you met him. This gorgeous, enigmatic man has on more than one occasion sparked a fire within you that you've never gotten from anyone else and that sort of rush is addicting. Too addictive to quit.

He blows smoke out in the form of bluish gray rings and leans into you, laying his head on your shoulder. "Over ten. I can't really remember."

"You can't remember... or you don't want to remember?"

He looks up at you angrily but lets out a sigh. "Both. It gets easier... especially when you have something to protect, like the tenth."

"Did you have something to protect the other times?"

"No... I was a free agent, did their dirty work because I was expendable... Are you expendable, Yamamoto?"

"I could be... if I had to be."

His eyes widened slightly and he whirls around, looking at you incredulously. "Why... why would you say that?"

You shrug. "If it was to protect you guys, I'd gladly give my life. That is my resolve."

"That isn't resolve. It's idiocy."

"Weren't you the same way? _Aren't_ you the same way?"

"That was before I had something to live for... don't you have something to live for, Yamamoto?"

This kind of conversation doesn't make you uncomfortable, but you can see the unpleasant shift in his gait as he walks toward the balcony to flick his cigarette over the railing. He doesn't open up like this, he doesn't call you by your name very often let alone two times in less than a minute. He doesn't let you touch him so freely and he doesn't ever react to you like this. He doesn't ever ask how you feel, what you want nor does he care. You can't exactly figure him out but he wants something from you and his unusual approach _is_ starting to make you feel uncomfortable.

You think of your dad and your friends and the beautiful man in front of you and yes, they're all something to live for but the question is, would you continue living if they weren't there to live for?

* * *

_This world will never be what I expected, and if I don't belong who would have guessed it?_

Gokudera did.

You stare up at your ceiling until your eyes burn. You feel heavy and hollow but worse you feel thrilled. The ghost of the man you've killed haunts your dreams, haunts your wake and it keeps you from functioning. The memory of the kill is what's got the skin prickled up on your flesh, adrenaline coursing through your veins and your heart racing in your chest.

You're confused because you shouldn't feel like this. You don't know how you should feel but it's shameful to feel like this. It's not your resolve, it is truly idiocy because nothing could have prepared you for this feeling.

You are but an empty shell of a man with tainted hands and a sinful soul. You can't look at yourself and you're pretty sure no one else can either.

The phone is ringing. Ringing and ringing and ringing and now you're not sure if it's the phone or just the constant stream of noise that rings in your eardrums. The rapping you hear on your front door is muffled, sounding miles and miles away. You barely hear the breaking and entering of an intruder because all you can hear are the resounding blood curdling cries of the man you've murdered.

When the intruder crashes in through your bedroom door you don't even turn your head because you can't tear away your gaze from the face formed into the stucco of the man who's life you claimed.

You don't hear the screaming of your name because it doesn't compare in volume to the pleas of the man begging for his no longer existence.

You do feel however, the heavy weight straddling you and the warm, sweaty palms on your cold and pallid cheeks.

The sounds slowly work their way back in from a steadfast muted drone to clear as crystal.

"Wake up!... Wake up!... Wake up, you fucker!"

Your eyes shift, fall slowly to the intruder, the man straddling you.

"Wake up! I'm pounding on the door, I -"

"Where the hell are you when I need you?" you ask, your tongue feels thick and heavy and your speech is slow and lazy.

"What?" Gokudera stares down at you in disbelief, his silver hair cascading over his face and shoulders.

"You walked away from me when I needed you... until we see this eye to eye, I don't want you." You try to push him off you, but he's got his thighs tight against your ribs and he reaches in and fists the collar of your shirt. You can see the anger in his eyes, brighter than any dying will flame you've ever seen but behind that you can see it. Finally. You can see the hurt.

""I... I'm not the man I was before, I won't hurt you anymore -"

"No, I don't want you. I don't want you or the mafia, or _any _of this! I killed someone, Gokudera. Just like you've always wanted me to... and guess what? _It felt good!_" you scream as he glares at you with that sad look in his eyes. It's not your intentions to make him feel guilty, but you feel like shit and misery loves company.

"I... I never wanted you to kill anyone," he says quietly. It makes you draw in a breath, the vulnerability and guilt in his tone. "I just... I just wanted you to get out. Because... because..." He sighs and he watches you and opens his mouth to say something and you hope it's what you think it is. Those three little words that he's never said back to you. The three little words that will probably make this disgusting and shameful feeling go away. But he doesn't.

"Listen, Yamamoto. The world we knew won't come back... the time we've lost can't get back. The life we had won't be ours again..."

You sigh and absently repeat those words. "This world will never be... what i expected. And if I don't belong - "

He leans in, so close you can feel his light breath brush your lips. "Yamamoto... No one is judging you. No one will ever see this side reflected, and if there's something wrong, who would have guessed it? And I have left alone everything that I own to make you feel like it's not too late. It's never too late." He pauses, he looks so _defeated._ "Even if I say it'll be alright, still I hear you say you want to end your life..._" _He grabs your wrist and runs his finger along the vertical scar that's puckered and fresh.

He trails off but his gaze doesn't shift, he still stares deep and you can see the flecks of gold in his green eyes that you've never noticed before. His eyes say everything his mouth never has and you want to... you just want to finally just _believe _that he loves you but how can you when you don't even trust your own judgment anymore?

"I fucking _told _you, you weren't cut out for the fucking mafia and I'm sorry that it had to come down to you actually killing someone for you to wake up. But... but when the tenth told me that you tried to kill yourself _again_..."

You saw something shift then, in his expression, something akin to anguish and pain and sadness but you didn't have a name for it because you've never seen this emotion spread across his flawless face.

He let out a trembling breath that kind of hitched at the end. His green in his eyes turned a clear seafoam, standing out against the redness that started to fill the whites and the glossy wetness that welled in the brims of his bottom lids. Was he... was he _crying?_

"Fuck, Yamamoto... You can't do that. _You can't do that!" _And something in him breaks and tears spill over his ivory cheeks and you blink. You blink several times until he lifts an arm to wipe off the tears with the back of his hand, covering his face and he silently sobs.

"Gokudera..." you whisper because you don't know what else to say. That you're sorry? But are you really? You loved the way the thrill of taking someone's life. It isn't natural, it isn't normal. You're not sure of anything anymore and you just want to fold yourself up in a little box and tuck yourself away because everything is wrong in the world. Even Gokudera. He's here, crying for you and this is what you've wanted. You've wanted him to show you a glimmer of hope and here he was, laying out what he'd allow himself to, baring it all and you just blink.

Because you're an empty shell of a man. You're dead inside, you might as well stop being a hindrance for everyone else and put yourself out of your misery. You aren't afraid of dying, that is your resolve.

_It's not resolve, it's idiocy._

Gokudera leans into you, slipping his arms behind your head and whispers against your skin, "It's never too late. Never too late to leave this place and go back to being a baseball idiot..."

You lift your long arms up and they feel like they're encased in cement and you think amusingly, _Limbs trapped in cement... __How fitting of a metaphor... for the mafia._

You wrap them around the back of the smaller man and push him into you and you feel the vibration of his heart against your chest. He may be small in stature but he is larger than life and the burdens he carries are even larger and you think that all this time he's been the one shielding you from everything. He's been the one protecting _you_ and you now understand the anger he bears when you talk so easily of throwing away your life.

"Gokudera... from the first time I saw your face, the first time we kissed, the first time we made love... it was already too late. I knew that wherever Gokudera went, I would follow. To the ends of the earth, to the depths of hell or the pearly gates of heaven, wherever you go I will follow. There is no me... without you."

You need to tell him this because it is too late, you love him. And you don't need to wake up, you can stay in this dream as long as it has him in it.

Gokudera sighs and kisses the side of your head. It's still so rare to see such affection. Even though you love him, you swear sometimes he hates you.

"Idiot... Wake up. There is no _me_ without _you_."


	11. XI Bonus Track - Ain't No Sunshine

**XI. Bonus Track : Ain't No Sunshine - Bill ****Withers**

* * *

It was a fucked up idea from the start. I should have never agreed to it. But I'm an extreme man who lives to the extreme and when I make a bet, you better believe I follow through to the extreme.

And that's how I ended up in between these two assholes who I really believe are nymphomaniacs. Extreme sexual deviants. Sadists. Yes, I extremely believe they're sadists.

Before we get to the most extremely embarrassing yet weirdly pleasurable moment of my extreme life, let me explain how I got here in the first place.

_"Yo, sempai! We're having a few drinks and gonna play a game of poker, you wanna come?"_

I seen the scowl on Octopus Head's face and that was enough for me to agree. What the hell right, I love poker to the extreme, it's a manly card game. Drinking is also awesome and I personally wanted to see what Octopus Head was like when he was drunk.

I gotta tell you, I've always kinda had a thing for that asshole. I can't explain it, so don't ask. He's uh, I don't know, kinda cute I guess in a manly kinda way. Listen, don't judge because I've spent many sleepless nights EXTEMELY working my brain over this shit but whatever, we're all men and sometimes men have to do extreme stuff to work out extreme stress.

He's really annoying and loud and he nags like a bitch. He follows Sawada around like a lost puppy, has long hair and everything he wears is tight and revealing. It came as no surprise when I found out he had a thing with Yamamoto.

Well, yeah. It surprised me to the extreme but it didn't, ya know?

Anyway, since then I can't get the mental pictures outta my head. And since then, I've always kinda wondered how that asshole was in bed. I mean, he's always so loud and feisty but he did bitch a lot, and he dressed like a chick so I was left to wonder...

Listen, that is a MANLY thing to say, so don't judge me.

Anyway, back to the poker game and that stupid bet.

We went to Octopus Head's place and I was shocked to the extreme to see he had a nice, clean place. Actually, haha, I wasn't. He was reminding me more and more of an extreme chick which was probably the reason behind the bet.

We were pretty drunk at this point but I can tell you, Octopus Head and myself could handle our saké and beer a lot better than Yamamoto can. He was extremely drunk.

Also, I started wondering who topped because Yamamoto was too... I don't know, too extremely friendly to be aggressive. And Octopus Head was smaller. I dunno, I found myself staring at them like some kinda extreme freak show.

Octopus Head and Yamamoto were in the middle of one of their lover's quarrels, you know the one where Octopus Head is complaining and bitching, calling Yamamoto every name in the book. I kinda feel sorry for the guy but I gotta give it to him. He has got EXTREME patience when it comes to that asshole.

_"Ma, ma, Gokudera. Calm down, it's just a card game."_

_"You bastard, you were looking at my cards!"_

_"Haha, I wasn't looking at your cards, I was too busy watching Gokudera's face."_

_"Oi, you bastard! Don't say shit like that in front of Lawn Head!"_

_"Haha! Ow! Sorry, sorry!"_

I sighed. This shit was getting on my nerves._ "HEY YOU ASSHOLES, ARE WE GONNA PLAY CARDS OR WHAT?"_

_"Shut the fuck up, Lawn Head, you're too damned noisy!"_

_"YOU WANNA GO, OCTOPUS HEAD? I WILL BEAT THE SHIT OUTTA YOU, TO THE EXTREME!"_

_"What, what? HAHA! I WILL BLOW YOUR ASS UP TO THE EXTREME, STUPUD LAWN HEAD!"_

_"__Sempai, Gokudera, please calm down haha. No blowing or beating anything, ne?" _Big toothy smile.

I guess I could see what Octopus Head saw in him.

_"Shut up, baseball idiot!"_

_"HEY, YOU MAKIN' FUN OF ME, OCTOPUS HEAD?"_

_"Will you shut it, Lawn Head?"_

_"MAKE ME!"_

And then I seen the slyest grin curl up around the butt of Octopus Head's cigarette. The grin reminded me of someone... oh yeah! That cat from that story... Chester... Cheesy... Cheshire! Yeah, he smirked like the Chesire cat to the extreme!

He raised an eye brow and spoke slow.

_"Make you, huh? If I win this card game, I bet I can make you shut up."_

_"OOH! WHAT A MANLY THING TO DO, OCTOPUS HEAD! I BET YOU TO THE EXTREME THAT YOU'LL LOSE! YOU'RE EXTREMELY DRUNK!"_

_"Che! I am not drunk. And! I take you up on that bet."_

Yamamoto had looked confused.

_"WHAT'S THE WAGER, OCTOPUS HEAD?"_

_"... If I win, you have to do whatever I tell you to. For an hour."_

_"HAHA, WHAT ARE YOU SAYING, OCTOPUS HEAD? THAT'S EXTREMELY IMMATURE!"_

Octopus Head couldn't have looked any more like a sly fox then how he did in that moment. His looked extremely amused was sneering at me at the same time. And I ain't gonna lie. It was kinda hot.

Yamamoto was giving him a dirty look. I don't know what that was all about but I've never seen that guy without a grin on his face.

_"Oi, Lawn Head... We got a bet or what?"_

_"Gokudera, what exactly are you playing at?"_

_"Shut up, idiot."_

_"OI OCTOPUS HEAD, YOU SHOULD BE NICER TO YOUR BOYFRIEND!"_

He hit me in the head with his fist. _"He's not my boyfriend!"_

_"WHATEVER MAN, LET'S DO THIS TO THE EXTREME!"_

Needless to say, I lost. Why? Because that sly asshole across from me with a cigarette dangling from his smirked mouth was an extremely cool and calculated fox.

But I am a man, an EXTREME man and I never go back on my word.

I slammed the cards down on the table and crossed my arms. _"ALRIGHT, OCTOPUS HEAD. I AM YOUR EXTREME SLAVE FOR ONE HOUR. DO WHAT YOU WISH!"_

I seen the guys exchange glances and I could have sworn I seen an extreme evil spark in their dark eyes.

Octopus Head didn't say anything but he got up and stripped off his shirt. He had an extreme amount of chains on including a rosary and dogtags.

I had followed him with my eyes, strutting across his living room to grab a bottle of whiskey of his counter. He came back with three shot glasses and had set them on the table.

_"First, you're going to drink. We're all going to drink this whole bottle," _he said. The cigarette bounced off his lips and my eyes were drawn to them.

Shit, I couldn't help it. I was extremely drunk and pumped up full of adrenaline, rearin' to go. Those lips were fucking hot to the extreme.

_"You're going to drink what I put in front of you, no complaints, Lawn Head. If you refuse, there'll be a punishment. Got it, fucker?"_

_"YES, ASSHOLE! I UNDERSTAND TO THE EXTREME!"_

On the inside I was laughing. All I had to do was drink for an hour? So extremely simple. There's no way I'd actually do that guy's bidding.

So we drank until the bottle was gone because I am a man and I am extreme.

_"WELLZ ASFHOLE.. MM GONNA SLEEPEH ON DIS EXTREEEEME COOUUCH -"_

Octopus Head laughed at me. He laughed but in an extremely... evil kinda way.

_"Idiot... It's only been a half an hour."_

He came close to me and grabbed my shirt, pulling me in towards him.

_"You're mine for another thirty minutes," _he sneered and then something completely unexpected happened.

The asshole kissed me.

_"Gokudera..." _Yamamoto's voice, questioning... he sounded kinda pissed.

I wasn't sure how to respond but this guy's kiss was extreme. So I kissed him back.

Because I am a man and I am extreme and I don't go back on a bet.

He bit my lip and shoved me away. _"Ha! You taste like shit, Lawn Head."_

Yamamoto stood watching us, his eyes were narrowed. I kinda felt awkward to the extreme.

I opened my mouth to say something but I didn't know what.

_"I'm fucking sad he was so obedient... oi Yamamoto... don't you wish we could have punished him at least once?"_

_"I... I guess? What exactly are you doing, 'Dera?"_

_"Don't fucking call me that. We're gonna have a little fun with Sunshine here, baseball bastard. You're gonna like it. And so are you, Lawn Head."_

_"OI, OCTOPUSSS HEAD! WHY... WHAT...FUCK I'M EMTRMELY DRNK."_

Octopus Head snarled and dragged me to his bedroom which was extremely easy because I was extremely drunk. I think I fell over once or twice to the extreme.

But I am a man and I am extreme and I didn't put up a fight. And looking back on it now being extremely roughed up and manhandled by that asshole I probably would have agreed to even being sober.

_"Hm... Not gonna struggle, Lawn Head?" _he had asked me, smirk playing on those fucking lips with that cigarette just dangling from them. Those extreme green eyes were dark and clear and like sparkled like a cat's in the low amber light in his bedroom.

Whoa, whoa, whoa... Getting too extreme there. Let me just say, the asshole looked deliciously fuckable to the extreme and at this point, Yamamoto did too. Don't ask me what the fuck I had been thinking, but I'm blaming it all on the alcohol.

He was behind Octopus Head, his arms around him and he had same extreme look in his eyes and the same kinda grin on his face. Fuck, I thought he was on my side.

I had gulped. I had no idea how extremely fucked of a situation I was getting myself into.

_"STRUGGLE...YOU SED IF I DONT LISTEN I GET PUN'SHED SO I'M MANLY TO THE EXTREME AND I DO -"_

_"Che... enough talking already, you're too noisy, you bastard. I told you I was going to make you shut your mouth, right?"_

He put his cigarette out on the dresser and blew smoke into my face.

_"OI, OCTOPUS HEAD! I. TAKE MY HEALF TO THA EXTREEMEE SO DON'T -"_

He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back. _"Suck it." _he said against my neck.

I was extremely confused. _"WHAT?"_

Octopus Head pushed me down on the bed._ "My dick,"_ he had said. _"Suck it."_

I looked from him to Yamamoto thinking is this guy fucking serious? I know I'm extremely drunk at this moment but there's somewhere I draw an extreme line. I had never been with a guy before, only started thinking those extreme thoughts about that asshole just recently. But this...

_"AND IF I DON'T?"_

He leaned in and smirked, he was extremely close to my face. My heart was pounding like I just ran around the block twenty times in an extreme workout and I kept thinking how hot this asshole looked in this lightning.

He caught my lips with his teeth and growled.

_"Then I'll have to punish you, fucker."_

Something like an extreme shiver went through my body. He kissed me again and shit it was extreme! He's like an angry kisser and I thought he would definitely be like a chick but he kissed like a man.

An extremely fucking seductive man.

I moved my hands to the buckle of his belt, lost in that asshole's kiss. I struggled and fumbled and that's when I felt two rough hands around my hands. They weren't Octopus Head's hands, his hands were busy pulling my hair.

Obviously they were Yamamoto's, his arms were around Octopus Head. He helped me with his pants to the extreme, undoing the belt and clasp and tugging them down. He stood up and smirked, leaning back into Yamamoto.

Octopus Head was now fully, extremely naked in front of me. What did I have to be shy about? We're men, we see each other in the shower, we can't help it but we look at each other's packages. So I can't explain why my face suddenly got extremely hot or why I felt a little bit of drool drip off my lips.

I looked up at him and he was kissing Yamamoto and for a second I was jealous to the extreme. I wanted his attention on me so I put him into my mouth as far as I could go because he wasn't small.

His hands found their way back into my hair.

"_Mm... help him Yamamoto..."_

Yamamoto's hands went to Octopus Head's cock and stroked him into my mouth. I could hear Octopus Head moan and it was fucking hot. To the extreme.

I looked up at him again and he was staring down at me with those extreme green eyes, biting his lip while Yamamoto kissed down his neck and shoulder.

_"Who knew there'd be other things you could do with your mouth than just make noise, Lawn Head."_

I sucked down hard and pulled off with a pop.

_"Strip__," _the asshole demanded_._

I stood and threw off my clothes, probably more enthusiastically than I should have, but we're still in that bet, that hour time frame and I didn't know what Octopus Head's version of punishment was.

Either he was gonna blow me up or do something extreme and erotic. I kinda wanted to disobey to find out but I couldn't deny that I was totally into this to the extreme.

_"Mm, Yamamoto... were you able to get a pair of Hibari's handcuffs?"_

Handcuffs?

Yamamoto let go of Octopus Head and walked to the dresser, pulling out a set of Hibari's extreme hand cuffs out of the drawer. I wondered how he was able to get those without getting bitten to death to the extreme.

_"Oh ho... We better make sure we don't get caught with these, wouldn't want to get bitten to death."_

Yamamoto stood by the top of the bed and the asshole nodded to me.

_"Get on the bed, give the idiot your hands."_

So I did without a word, holding the asshole's glare as Yamamoto hooked the cuffs in the wrought iron headboard and snapped them on my wrists, locking my arms and hands above my head.

These assholes were extreme sadists. I'm sure of it.

Octopus Head came in between my legs and put my cock into his extremely hot mouth and shit he was good with his tongue to the EXTREME.

I heard some kind of womanly sounding moan. _Shit was that me?_

Judging by the chuckle from the asshole between my legs it must have been. The vibration of that laugh went straight through my dick and oh fuck it was extreme.

I felt his fingers trace my abs and down to my cock and then suddenly they were on my ass, between...

_"OI OCTOPUS HEAD! W-WAIT! WHAT DO YOU THINK-"_

The asshole pulled off my dick hard with his mouth, spit dripping off his swollen red lips.

Shit. Fuck. They were so fucking hot to the extreme.

_"Shut him up, idiot," _he hissed at Yamamoto, who I hadn't even noticed until now.

He was now undressed and crawling on to the bed. He stood on his knees in front of me. Oh shit. Yamamoto was EXTREMELY big, I hadn't expected that either but what the hell, I didn't go around thinking about the size of dudes dicks all day long.

Okay, maybe as of lately, don't fucking judge me.

_"Put him in your mouth, Lawn Head."_

_"Gokudera... are you sure...?"_

What a nice guy. It's extremely polite to ask your boyfriend if it's alright for another guy to suck you off in front of his face.

_"Yes, you fucking bastard! Shit, do either of you ever shut the fuck up?"_

_"Sorry, sorry."_

The asshole leaned in again and tucked his hair behind his ear, putting me into his mouth again.

_"F-fuck," _I gasped. Shit he was so extreme!

_"Ma, sempai... you should do as Gokudera says." _He put his extreme cock to my lips and I opened them hesitantly, letting him slip inside.

Because I am a man and I am extreme and at this point too fucking drunk and turned on to care.

I felt the asshole suck on his fingers along with my dick and trace them down my ass over my hole. I felt my face get hotter and fuck this was embarrassing to the extreme. But I couldn't deny that when he pushed one finger in slowly while still sucking me off I started whining like a chick but I was totally extreme about it.

Yamamoto grabbed on to my hair and pushed my mouth further down on his cock, the tip pushing on my reflex, making me gag and choke but it didn't stop him.

Too much fucking sensory overload do me to pay attention to what was happening anymore as Yamamoto fucked my mouth and the asshole was just extremely fucking amazing at whatever he was doing, the pain and uncomfortable pressure wasn't too much to handle, after all I live to the extreme.

I think I was about ready to come, I didn't know 'cause I couldn't fucking think straight but that's when Octopus Head stopped like he knew, and demanded Yamamoto to un-cuff me.

I whined. Was this asshole serious? He truly was an extreme sadist.

He laughed dryly. _"Relax, Lawn Head... I'm not finished with you yet. Turn over. Now."_

_"W-what...?"_ I squeaked. _Oh shit, I sounded so much like a chick and not extreme at all. Fuck this asshole._

_"Ain't no sunshine gonna be left to you after I'm finished," _the asshole said harshly, crawling over my body to smash his lips onto mine in a lip bruising kiss. He grinded down on me and shit, I was grinding my hips up into his, our cocks rubbing together To the extreme. He broke away panting and slipped his mouth over Yamamoto's dick once, pulling back and laughing.

_"Now you turn over and you un-cuff the bastard, or I'm gonna beat the both of __you,"_ the asshole demanded. Fuck he was good with that.

Yamamoto un-cuffed me and I turned over. Yamamoto grabbed my wrists again and re-cuffed them to the headboard.

Fuck... just what kind of extreme shit did I get into?

_"On your knees, Lawn Head."_

I listened. The extreme position of my hands and arms forced my face into the pillow.

Yamamoto reached into the drawer of nightstand and pulled out a bottle of clear gel and handed it to Octopus Head. I heard them kiss for a minute but then I felt something cool and tingling in between my ass cheeks and then suddenly it was hot and tingling and there were fingers inside my hole again.

_"I'm gonna fuck you now," _Octopus Head said. It wasn't a suggestion and he wasn't asking permission.

Fuck. What the extreme fuck did I get myself into? Octopus Head was about to take my virginity in this messed up extreme threesome and I was extremely okay with that.

In fact, I live to the extreme so losing my virginity any other way wouldn't be my style.

I suddenly felt him against me and then extreme pressure and burning pain inside me and fuck it felt extremely good.

He pushed in deep and I heard myself cry out and my face was extremely hot maybe from the alcohol but probably from the embarrassment. He leaned in and bit my shoulder and his teeth felt extremely amazing on my skin.

The asshole reached around and dragged his hand down my chest and wrapped it around my cock. He jerked me and slammed me and I didn't know if I should move into his hand or down on his cock.

I buried my face into the pillow to stifle the extreme sounds I was making and I felt Octopus Head wrap his other arm around my chest, digging his nails into my flesh.

I heard him call out Yamamoto's name and figured by the shift in his position, Yamamoto must be fucking him too.

Whoa... this situation was... so EXTREME!

I could tell when Yamamoto thrust in hard because the asshole would slam into me, hitting that spot that made me scream and see white. The sound of the two of them moaning, the asshole's hand around my cock and his hard thrusts were just too fucking extreme for me handle and I came, into the asshole's hand and all over the bed sheets. How EXTEMELY embarrassing to come first.

Octopus Head kept thrusting and it got harder and harder and I could almost feel myself getting hard again until I felt something warm fill me and slide down my thighs, hearing the asshole call out Yamamoto's name.

I guess Yamamoto came too, 'cause I heard him shout out and then everyone was extremely still but we were breathing like we just had the most extreme and insane workout.

Well... it was extreme and insane. Completely insane. And a workout.

I had started to sober up already and I could feel the burning of my chafed wrists from the handcuffs.

As if reading my mind, Yamamoto came around and un-cuffed me from the headboard.

He smiled at me like he was shy all of a sudden. _"Sorry, sempai. Haha."_

I just nodded, my throat was extremely dry from all that extreme and... manly shouting. Well, most of it was manly. Shit... these assholes.

Octopus Head pulled out of me and some kind of squeak came out of my throat. He flopped down beside me and I spread out into the bed, extremely exhausted.

He lit a cigarette and Yamamoto jumped in on the other side of the bed, beside me.

_"You're free to do whatever you want, Lawn Head,"_ he said, inhaling smoke.

_"Sleep to the extreme,"_ I grunted into the pillows that smelled like the both of them.

_"Haha, good idea, sempai!"_

So I started drifting off into an extreme sleep I wondered if something like this would happen again. Probably not 'cause Octopus Head is an asshole and I'd probably never get drunk with these sadists again. I was okay with it either way. One thing I knew though was never to make a bet with Octopus Head again.

Man, it was gonna be one hell of an awkward morning to the extreme.


	12. XII Remix Track - Umbrella

**XII. Remix Track : Umbrella - All Time Low [Rhianna cover] **

* * *

"I'm gonna take a break."

"But Giancarlo, we've only just started."

There was a fierce scowl on the fair skinned Italian's handsomely structured face. "Don't fucking call me that," he spat. "I'm taking a break. Deal with it."

The photographer sighed and looked to the agent, who shrugged lethargically. "What a diva," the photographer muttered.

The Italian super model shot him another glare and left for his dressing room. When he got there, the first thing he did was check his cell phone.

It isn't often that this gorgeous, rare silver haired beauty smiles, but when he does it's usually because of one person.

_"I miss you, Dera."_

There was a curl of the Italian's plush-pale pink lips and he returned the text with an _I miss you too, idiot._

He was fond of the idiot, more than he'd ever let on but long distance relationships were hard to deal with. He sighed and sat in his velvet padded chair and put his feet up on the vanity table, withdrawing a long cigarette stick from it's pack and lighting it. The velvet felt soft against his naked back and he was glad for the warmth in the dressing room because lately the weather had been cold and damp, making him yearn for the embrace of his lover even more than usual.

Someone entered his dressing room and called out to him. His agent.

"Don't you ever fucking knock, asshole?" he chided angrily.

"Are you smoking? What have I told you about smoking, brat? It's going to yellow your fingers and teeth and give you wrinkles around your mouth. And that's just aesthetically. There's a whole shitload of disease you can get from that shit, Hayato. I can only imagine what your mother would say if she could see you now."

"Shut up, old man. You're not my father," Hayato growled, taking an extra long drag on his cigarette for emphasis.

"No, but I am your guardian because -"

"Yeah, yeah... because my mother asked you to take care of me before she died, whatever. You stopped being my guardian when I turned eighteen. Shit. That was a few years ago and you still insist in sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."

"Well, if you don't want to listen to your guardian, you insolent brat, then how about I'm your fucking agent and I'm telling you to quit fucking smoking before you end up with no fucking career, shithead."

"Che... as if you care about my career. You only care about the money I pay you and the women that fuck you because you're my agent." He took another drag of his cigarette and snubbed it out on the vanity table. He watched the man's expression in the vanity mirror and smirked.

"Whatever you say, Hayato. You need to get back to the photo shoot, the photographer is getting pissy."

Hayato Gokudera - three quarter Italian, one quarter Japanese; courtesy of his mother - stood, pushing the silver fringe of bangs (that happened to look a lot like his agent slash guardian's brunette bangs) out of his face with a heavily, metal ring adorned hand. "Whatever. Hey... what are those?" he inquired, nodding to the magazines held in Shamal's hands.

"Oh, these? They're the weekly tabloids. You know how I like to read up on how the media is treating you, Hayato," Shamal said with a smirk.

"You just buy them to ogle the half naked celebrities they put in there," Hayato sneered, grabbing one. He looked at the cover and nearly staggered as he drew in an (accidental) surprised gasp. "What... what is this?" he uttered, barely audible.

On the cover of the magazine, a beautiful brunette hung off the arm of a tall Japanese turned American pro baseball player, his name - Takeshi Yamamoto. They looked happy, friendly and intimately close. Haru Miura, the woman in the photo, was a very popular fashion designer that worked in Italy a lot, which is where Hayato modeled. She was Japanese too, they made a perfect couple; with their dark hair - hers brown, his raven; their eyes - hers a chocolate brown, his a rare hazel for his ethnicity; their skin - hers a slightly tanned complexion, his a golden caramel complexion from long time exposure to the sun. There were always stories about them in the media, they were often photographed together but never... never this close. And never with this kind of caption.

The caption read they were getting engaged.

"Ooh. That woman is a beautiful creature I could only dream about getting in between my bed sheets. She's always playing hard to get when she comes here to help out with some of your shoots. For a while there, I thought she was fucking you and that's why she wasn't interested in me. Because hey, who could resist this suave looking man? It's a fucking shame that jock is taking her off the market, eh Hayato?" Shamal said, nudging him in the ribs.

Hayato dug in his pocket for his Zippo. "You don't actually believe these fucking things, do you, pervert?" And he lit the corner of the magazine on fire.

* * *

Later that evening, he had received another text from his lover, who he had been considering flying to America to possibly murder after seeing the cover of the tabloid.

_"Hey handsome! I saw your latest ad. You look sexy."_

Hayato had responded with, _I can't do this anymore. We should break up._

He knew this was cowardly, but he didn't think he could listen to all the excuses and explanations. He already gave his lover too much of a benefit of the doubt, despite his insecurities and lack of trust for the human race.

The next text he received was, _"Oh... you saw the magazine cover."_

Hayato didn't respond. His phone rang. He didn't answer it either. The message he had sent was clear enough. His phone rang five more times consecutively after that and then,

_"I'm sorry, I just saw that this morning too. My publicist said it'd be good for my image to pose for the photo like that. I didn't know the tabloids were going to caption it with that, honestly."_

Silence.

_"Dera... I'm not getting married."_

The fact that his lover had instantly jumped to the conclusion that he was jealous infuriated him. While it may be so, how dare they think he liked them that much. So he typed back,

_Idiot, I don't give a shit about that! This long distance thing isn't working out. I'm too busy to care._

_"Dera... please. You have my heart, we'll never be worlds apart. Maybe in magazines but you'll still be my star. There's no distance in between our love."_

Hayato didn't respond.

* * *

He was cold. It seemed to have gotten colder in Italy, he seemed to have gotten colder ever since he broke off his long term and long distance relationship via text message; two weeks ago, over a tabloid picture he knew was all for show. It didn't change the fact that it hurt though. He hadn't heard from his other half in over a week, he guessed they finally got tired of calling and texting and not getting a reply. It wasn't that he didn't want to answer, or to believe his lover; he just was tired of this whole charade.

His lover had an image to uphold and his lover's publicist controlled who his lover was seen in public with and his lover's publicist always made sure the dates were good looking and somewhat celebrities themselves.

Hayato also had an image to uphold, a reputation to exceed. His agent wasn't as anal as his lover's publicist but he was demanding all the same. He even suggested changing his mother's name she had given him at birth to Giancarlo Cavallone because Hayato Gokudera sounded too Japanese. He was reluctant, but agreed eventually for the sake of his career, which is what Shamal always tells him. Hayato didn't particularly care what others thought of him, if they didbt like what he did they could all go and fuck themselves. However, he was just too lazy to care to argue about his public image. They only thing he refused to budge on when it came tobwgat Shamal wanted was his personal life. He absolutely would not lie about who dated. If Shamal didn't want him to advertise his love life with a particular someone, -not that Hayato would advertise it at all- then he wouldn't lie about being with someone else. So he just never told Shamal about who he had been dating, had lied about it for a few years now, just to save face. And any woman Shamal had tried to get him to bang or date or just be seen with, he refused.

"I'm taking a break," he said.

"You've got to be kidding me!" The photographer through his hands up in the air. "Is he always like this?" he asked Shamal. Shamal just gave a nonchalant shrug while he flipped through some kind of swimsuit magazine.

Hayato grabbed his leather jacket to cover his naked chest and left the warehouse through the back door.

It was raining in Milan, dark and dreary; much like his mood. He clenched a cigarette in between his teeth and lit it. He looked up to survey the parking lot for any annoying paparazzi. That's when his eyes fell on a tall figure; dressed in white sneakers, blue jeans and blue plaid shirt. Hayato assumed it was a male by the long lean frame because his face was shrouded by a large black umbrella. He had a hand shoved into his jeans pocket and he was just standing there, in the rain.

It was either paparazzi or some crazed fan wanting an autograph.

Hayato rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Oi... what -"

The umbrella tilted back and the man revealed his bright white smile, wide enough to split his face. "Yo," he said, smile unmoving.

Hayato stilled, rain pattering down on his jacket. It matted his hair and soaked his cigarette.

"Yama... moto," he gasped. "What... what are you doing here? I thought I told you it was over."

Yamamoto Takeshi smiled. "I said I wouldn't accept that, Dera."

"I never said I was okay with that," Hayato remarked, pouting.

"You never said anything," Yamamoto said. "I told you, I'm not getting married. Not to anyone, except you. I told you I'll be here forever, said I'll always be your friend. Took an oath, I'ma stick it out to the end."

Redness flared across Hayato's ivory skin. "Che... who said I was your friend?"

Yamamoto laughed. "You're soaked. You can stand under my umbrella."

"No, thanks. There's paparazzi all around. You know the rules. If someone sees us... "

Hayato doesn't care who sees him, who takes his photograph. He doesn't even care that much about his career. He doesn't care that he's gay and in love with a man; he's a male model, beautiful and single, half the population that was into his affairs already assumed that was the case. But he did care about Yamamoto and his career and he hated the asshole publicist that made him do these things because no one but Hayato knew about Yamamoto's secret.

"I don't care about any of that anymore," Yamamoto said, taking a step closer. "I care about you."

Hayato's hair was now stuck to his head and neck, his leather jacket soaked and his naked chest was cold. He could see paparazzi with cameras in suspicious vehicles parked strategically around the parking lot but without knowing who the enigmatic man under the umbrella was, they weren't willing to get out to snap photos of a soaking wet model when they could do it from their cars just fine.

"What about your career? What about baseball? Or whatever... The cars, the money... all those things that you like, hm? What about all that shit?"

Yamamoto's hazel eyes shone brightly, contrasting the skyline behind him. "Those fancy things will never come in between... you're part of my entity, here for infinity. I love you, Hayato. Always and forever. I fired my publicist. And I'll quit baseball if that's what it takes to mend your heart."

Hayato stood in the rain with red rosy cheeks, his sparkling jade eyes large and wide. His cigarette hung limp, wet and long abandoned. His heart raced, pounded hard against his chest.

"It's okay, don't be alarmed. Come in to me. Baby, come in to me. " Yamamoto held out his hand for Hayato to grasp. "You can stand under my umbrella."

And Hayato moved, ever so surreptitiously, towards the man he couldn't help but love and stood under his umbrella. Yamamoto cupped his cold and wet cheek with his warm hand and they kissed, ignoring the bright lights of the flashing cameras.

* * *

**Author's Note**

**This edit is courtesy of the ever so wonderful and cute Bernie xox**


	13. XIII Hidden Track - In Better Hands

**Author's Note :**

**Warning : **Character Death/Character Death Reference Ahead

* * *

**XIII. Hidden Track : In Better Hands - Fefe Dobson**

* * *

He was thrown back by the blast, his head making a sickening wet _thwack! _as it hit the brick wall.

It shouldn't have happened like this, he supposed, but as of lately he's been a little reckless.

Well, 'a little' would be an understatement.

He shouldn't have charged in with his Kintoki already slick with blood and entrails and bits of gray matter. He hadn't seen the rocket launcher but he had felt the effects.

His vision blurred and he felt a searing pain, sharp like needles behind his eyes. Slowly, the black dots he had begun to see in front of them merged into one dark abyss as he lost himself to the light.

Yamamoto has always been a firm believer in the after life so that's why when he opened his eyes, he wasn't surprised to see the blinding white light that had engulfed him.

_I must be dead,_ he thought and somehow the thought didn't bother him as much as it should. The people he loves most have already left him so the quicker he gets to see them again, the better.

An anxious feeling had risen from the pit of his stomach. He'd be able to see his mom, oh how long he's waited to see her again and he's nervous that she'll be disappointed and disapprove of the way he's lived his life. It makes him nervous.

But that quickly dissipate as he thinks of his dad, the nostalgia of his infectious laugh and proud smile bring a smile to Yamamoto's own mouth. It hasn't been long, a little over three months since his dad had been murdered by the Millfiore and Yamamoto has _a lot _of repenting to do. It was his fault his father was gone.

He stands and he notices he feels weightless. His surroundings are pure white and nothing seems solid, it's like he's lost in a bright white limbo. He sort of panics, becaude this isn't the afterlife he's imagined. There's no one here to greet him, no mother, no father, no...

"Oi, idiot. What are you doing here?"

Yamamoto whips around and suddenly the sight before him brings him to his knees. His chest heaves, his heart seizes and his lungs harden. He almost can't believe his eyes. He _wants _to believe his eyes, because the man in front of him has been gone for only a week but it seems like an eternity and he's so _relieved _that if he had the chance to only see one person before his decent to Hell, it gets to be this one man.

He stands before Yamamoto and Yamamoto can't help but be breathless because this man has always taken his breath away but here and now, as cliché as it sounds, he's the epitome of angelic.

He sparkles. He sparkles ever so subtly, but he's bright and shining like their surroundings. His sliver hair is like crushed diamonds and his eyes are a glimmering emerald. His lips are plush pink and his skin is a beautiful porcelain. Yamamoto thinks that the only thing this beautiful man is missing is wings and a halo but it wouldn't suit him anyway.

This is so different from the bent and broken, bloodied and lifeless body that was the last memory he had of this man.

When he finally caught his breath, he could feel that he was crying. It was hot against his cheeks but the teardrops felt just as weightless as he did.

"Goku... dera," he choked. It was a gasping sob.

Gokudera smirked. "I asked what you're doing here, baseball freak. Don't tell me you're making things hard on the Tenth, because I'll kill you myself."

Yamamoto had to smile. He missed this man so god damned much, it hurt every single minute. The only time he didn't feel this pain was when he was numb, when he was killing.

Anxiety once again overwhelmed him as Gokudera moved towards him, walking on an unseen surface dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, looking very much like his fourteen year old self but with longer hair and a kinder scowl.

"It's kinda too late for that... if I'm here, with you, right?" he asked with a nervous laugh.

Gokudera knelt before him and smiled. "Idiot, I'm just a figment of your imagination. You better hurry up and get back. You're making the Tenth worry."

Yamamoto wanted to reach out, reach out and touch the skin he longed for. Embrace the body he yearned for. Kissed the lips he could still feel lingering on his, even now. But he was afraid. If he was just an apparition then... then what would he do?

"But... " he sighed. "I want to stay here, with Gokudera. I miss you, _so much_."

"We tried... we tried, but we weren't built to last. This life, you knew it was bound to happen at some point. That's... that's why I was so reluctant. You can't have those kinds of feelings and be a hitman, Yamamoto. Just like Shigure Soen Ryu and baseball, you have to choose."

"I've already made my choice. I don't wanna go back, Gokudera. I don't want to go back to a world without you in it."

Gokudera scowled but blushed, just like he always did when Yamamoto said something that made him feel warm inside.

"This... this can't be a dream," Yamamoto said, reaching out a hesitant hand. "You're so... real."

Gokudera sighed. "I'm not real, I'm dead. And you're not. Not yet, and I won't let you stay here. You need to go back to the Tenth, protect him because I'm not able to anymore. We vowed to do that, remember?"

Yamamoto shook his head and drew back his hand, hugging himself because the arms he wanted around him just wouldn't come. He didn't care if he sounded like a spoiled child. He was selfish, he loved Gokudera and though he loved Tsuna too, it wasn't the same. Gokudera was _his,_ he wanted him, _all _of him and if that meant he had to die, then so be it. Wasn't that what he had been trying to do for the past week?

"I can't, Gokudera. Please don't make me go back. I _need_ to be here with you."

Gokudera reached out his hand, which even in death was still covered in rings, and stroked his cheek. The warmth that Yamamoto felt from it surprised him. His touch, it felt like a feather, so light but yet so solid. _So real._

"You have to let go, move on. Leave the mafia if you have to, go back to baseball and meet someone that's nothing like me. Losing your identity, you became my shadow. This may seem impolite, but go. Go be with someone can love you for an eternity. Go back to the Tenth, go be in better hands."

Yamamoto couldn't hold back the docs that wracked his body. These things Gokudera said hurt, and he knew he just said them to convince him otherwise but it didn't change the fact that it felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest. Or had that happened already?

He reached up to grasp Gokudera's hand on his cheek but sadly he felt the coldness of his own hand, even though Gokudera's hadn't moved.

"I told you, I'm not really here, idiot," he whispered fondly; sadly.

"But... Gokudera... no one's hands are better than yours. I want to be in them. In better hands means only yours, I'll never let go of Gokudera."

Gokudera put his other hand on Yamamoto's other cheek and leaned in close. "Idiot... I'm not giving you a choice in the matter. It isn't your time, yet. If when the time is right, I'll be here. Here and waiting for your hands, alright?"

Yamamoto for once since getting here, stilled. If Gokudera was here, saying such things, this really must be a dream, right?

Gokudera leaned in and pressed his lips against Yamamoto's, soft and fluttering like the wings of a butterfly and Yamamoto wished so badly to grasp his hands and hold this moment forever. He didn't want to let go. He was already in better hands.

"I promise," Gokudera whispered as he faded out. The bright light surrounding them started to edge out, stark blackness bled in and Yamamoto panicked.

"Hayato, please! Don't leave me," he cried. But it had already been too late. He was gone and so was the bright light.

"...ato! Yamamoto!" a voice, fading in from a steady drone that sounded like it was underwater until it got crystal clear.

"Yamamoto!"

Yamamoto opened his eyes and his vision swam back into focus and he could see Tsuna's wide eyes and worried face looming over him. The other Guardians crowded around him.

"Ah, thank goodness!" Tsuna cried out in relief.

The other Guardians proclaimed their relief and left, satisfied that Yamamoto was okay. And when Tsuna moved out of field of vision, he saw one more Guardian that lingered. The Storm Guardian. He looked down at Yamamoto, as transparent and paper thin as a decorative Japanese lantern and all knowingly smirked.

"Go... Gokudera," Yamamoto whispered, startled.

"Huh?" asked Tsuna, cocking his head to the side in confusion.

"No-nothing," Yamamoto said, smiling up the the only person he knows he'll ever love.

"I thought you said... Gokudera. Did you see him, Yamamoto?" asked Tsuna, his voice wavering.

He looked over at Tsuna, who looked so much like the innocent boy of ten years ago.

"Yeah... actually I did," Yamamoto said with a nostalgic smile.

"Really?" Tsuna's eyes lit up. "What did he say?"

Gokudera's smirk widened and his eyes softened. He drifted away, like tidal waves of sand wafting away in a wind storm. Yamamoto felt a pang of sadness until he remembered the promise.

"I'm in better hands."


	14. XIV Acoustic Track - Someone Like You

**XIV. Acoustic Track : Someone Like You / Turning Tables [Mashup] - Adele**

* * *

_Gokudera Hayato felt like he was having a heart attack. A sharp pain right under his breastbone, a seizing in his chest and his heart was racing; pulse irregular. He knew it wasn't impossible given that he was a heavy smoker, worked around explosives and given his line of work except he was pretty young - he'd be eighteen three months - and under the circumstance, well... _

_He wasn't quite sure he heard the words right. "What?" he gasped. The pain he felt was heavy on his chest and he struggled to breathe properly. _

_"Haha, yeah. I'm sorry but I think we should break up." _

_Gokudera had never given his heart to anyone except this one person. He was reluctant - oh so reluctant - at first because he knows what it feels like to get hurt so he usually keeps that organ locked up along with the emotions that go with it. Except, one day a stupid baseball idiot came along and changed everything. Gokudera really hated him at first; couldn't stand everything that boy stood for, but as time passed everything that boy stood for Gokudera came to admire. And that admiration evolved into love. It became a mutual love and the boy always held Gokudera's heart in his hands and he was really careful with it because he knew Gokudera had been hurt a lot; he knew that despite his hard exterior, Gokudera was really fragile, just like fine blown glass. _

_"I... I don't understand? Why?" he whispered, feeling a lot more unguarded and vulnerable than he wanted to because this guy - this idiot - seemed to be so nonchalant. _

_The boy had always had a special smile reserved just for Gokudera, but Gokudera never realized this. Gokudera was too busy striving to be Tsuna's right hand man and it never made the boy jealous, just sad and envious because he loved Gokudera. But he could only dream to be seen the way Gokudera saw Tsuna, he could only wish that Gokudera would love him in the way the boy loved him. _

_"I just think I've had enough of this game, you know - the mafia game. I've always dreamed of baseball and I really want to focus on it. And... and I can't have any distractions," he said solemnly. He wasn't trying to hurt Gokudera, he just wanted to stop hurting himself. And he really didn't like this mafia game, it was dangerous and the future he saw was bleak. If he could just change it all before that happened, he could spare himself and his father. He could spare Gokudera. "I'm really sorry, okay? But uh, could you tell Tsuna for me? I'm leaving for baseball camp in two days. "_  
_Gokudera felt really broken on the inside, but the boy across from him that was always so open about his feelings didn't seem to be feeling the same way. Gokudera was just a 'distraction' in the way of his precious baseball career. It made him angry, because he tended to be selfish. _

_"Well whatever," Gokudera had said curtly. He didn't want to say much for fear of faltering, so he resorted to his crude insults and ignorance; the only way he knew how. "You've been a distraction of mine, idiot. I'm glad we're breaking up. I don't need you taking away time I should be devoting to the tenth and I especially don't need you in this family if all that's going to be going on in that empty head of yours is fucking baseball. It's actually great, really. Fuck, I'm finally free." He let out a mock exasperated sigh for emphasis. _

_The boy's amber eyes were wide and a little hurt, but that made Gokudera feel better. Especially when the smile that spread across his face was all wrong, a façade to hide the way he really felt. _

_"Really? Haha, well okay. That was easier than I thought. You're not going to blow me up with your fireworks or anything?" _

_The pain in Gokudera's chest was tighter and heavier than he could handle and he knew he was about to break. Though he could read the nuance in he idiot's expression, it hurt like hell to hear him pretend like it didn't bother him at all. And it pisses him off that the idiot would think he cared that much. "Pfft, why would I waste good dynamite blowing up your stupid ass? Where would you even get the idea I'd be upset over this? Hell, good riddance to you, baseball freak. You've been a thorn in my side since we've met." _

_The boy rubbed the back of his neck with a weary smile and shrugged. "Sometimes it lasts in love but sometimes it hurts instead," he said meekly. _

_Gokudera snorted and lit a cigarette. "Idiot... I never loved you." It was a lie, his body told him so, the way his heart felt like it was exploding and the way the hot sting of tears welled in his eyes. But, it was for the best. He turned on his heel and never looked back._

* * *

Gokudera Hayato felt like he was having a heart attack. His chest was heaving and his heart throbbed. He felt disoriented and dizzy and found it difficult to breathe. This time it was surely possible; he was after all the tenth generation Storm Guardian and consigliere to the Vongola Decimo and that was a stressful job. He was twenty-three, still smoked - probably more than he did when he was a teenager, and he was constantly breathing in flake TNT, Composition B and any other useful type of gunpowder that made good explosives. It more certainty possible, but give the circumstance, well...

"Gokudera-kun?"

Gokudera set the newspaper down on his desk and looked over to see the Tenth coming in through his office door. He smiled broadly. "Ah, good morning, Tenth." He took a sip of his cold coffee. Definitely not a pleasant thing but it surely tasted better than the acidic taste of bile thick on his tongue, better than the feeling of battery acid coating his mouth.

"Good morning," he said with a bright smile. "Did you see the newspaper this morning?" He sat down in a chair opposite of Gokudera's desk.

Gokudera gave a weak smile and lifted the corner of the newspaper off his desk. "Yes, I've read it."

"It's really great, don't you think? Yamamoto has become such a big baseball star and now he's getting married to that really pretty woman."

Gokudera felt the vice around his heart tighten. "Yeah, it's great." His tone had more sarcasm in it than he had meant it to.  
"I still miss him, he was an amazing friend. But I do think that it was good for him to to have pursued his dream. He wasn't made out for this sort of thing," the Tenth remarked.

Gokudera nodded slowly, swallowing thickly because there was a lump in his throat like a jagged rock that refused to go away. "Yes, you're right, Tenth. I'm... I'm happy for him."

"Are you okay, Gokudera-kun? You look kind of pale."

Gokudera tried to shake off this feeling but it just made it worse. He couldn't push it put of his mind. The tenth had never known about the special relationship shared between the baseball idiot and the bomber and Gokudera wasn't about to tell him now. "I'm great, Tenth. I'm just... all out of coffee," he said sheepishly, feeling guilty for lying.

"Oh, haha. Of course. Well, I've got to get ready for this afternoon's meeting, I had just wanted to come by and give you the news about Yamamoto. Don't work too hard, Gokudera-kun." He gave Gokudera a warm and genuine smile and excused himself from his office.

Gokudera wasn't going to allow himself to cry, he had braved a hundred storms to leave him and he knew in his heart it was for the best. Even though he had been angry he was happy that Yamamoto wasn't going to be part of this life. It didn't suit his pure heart, and Gokudera was sincerely glad he had found a girl that made him happy, something Gokudera knew he could have never done.

The Tenth had always insisted that he see a therapist for his anger issues which has helped him become a lot more docile and pliant over the years. The therapist has always told him to write his feelings down because Gokudera has never spoken about them, not to the therapist and not to the Tenth. She told Gokudera that it would help with his anger because having somewhere to vent them will help keep him imploding and exploding. It was that kind of reckless behavior after Yamamoto left had caused the Tenth to seek help for Gokudera in the first place.

After the Tenth left, Gokudera decided to write a letter. He was probably never going to give it to him, but just the thought of expressing his feelings finally to Yamamoto gave him much relief, even though it hurt. He felt like this would be his closure, after all Yamamoto had moved on so he needed to as well, it had already been given years. He was getting married, there was never going to be a second chance - no more what ifs or could haves or wishful thinking.

He began the letter by addressing him with the nostalgic nickname he had given to Yamamoto out of ignorance but quickly became something said with fondness between the two of them when they shared intimate moments.

_Baseball Idiot, _

_I heard that you're settled down, that you found a girl and you're married now. I heard that your dreams came true. Guess she gave you things I didn't give to you_.

_Sometimes_ _I wish things could be different, but you know how time flies. I've thought about you a lot and for a long time, I wasn't over us. For a long time, I kept wishing that you and I didn't go our separate ways. For a long time, I was angry and hurt. It still hurts but you've moved on right? It doesn't hurt for you, I guess it never did. _

_Never mind, I'll find someone like you. I wish nothing but the best for you, too. I'll remember you said 'Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead.' _

_Nothing compares, no worries or cares. Regrets and mistakes, they are memories made._

_Who would have known how bittersweet this would taste? _

Gokudera stopped when something wet hit the paper and he realized he had been crying like an idiot. He dropped the pen and folded the letter, placing it in an envelope. He wrote _Takeshi Yamamoto _in the center of the envelope and set it on a stack of papers until he could collect his thoughts. Then he'd finish the letter when it didn't hurt so much, and get this over and done with.

He received an urgent phone call from his assistant, alerting him that there had been a threat sighted close to the Vongola Estate. He hurriedly gave the assistant instructions to complete and take care of the paperwork on his desk while he contacted the other Guardians via text message. All but the Rain, because they had never replaced Yamamoto. They all agreed that it just wouldn't feel right.

Gokudera had forgotten about the letter and it had been several months later since finding out that Yamamoto Takeshi was soon to be wed to a woman that clearly made him happier than Gokudera ever could have.

He had kept himself busy, they were dealing with a new threat, a rival family called the Millfiore. They were a large family with bases in Japan and Italy and Gokudera had been researching the base in Japan.

It hadn't crossed his mind that he'd be returning to the place where he fell in love with Yamamoto, it hadn't occurred to him that everywhere he'd go there would be memories of him. He hadn't thought of Yamamoto since the day he wrote the letter because his priority as the Decimo's consigliere kicked into full gear.

He was in his apartment, small and quaint located in a villa with the same charm. He was busy packing his suitcase to accompany the Tenth to a meeting with Millfiore contacts in Japan when a knock sounded at his door.

There were few people that knew where he lived but his mind was elsewhere, feeling uneasy about this meeting that he and the Tenth would be attending. He couldn't shake the fact that it felt like a trap. So, mindlessly he walked to the door and opened it and the sight before him sent him reeling, knocking the air out of him.

"Yamamoto..." he gasped when he could catch his breath.

Yamamoto stood at his door, shoulders slumped with a solemn smile. "Hey... "

Puzzled, Gokudera stepped aside and motioned for Yamamoto to step inside. "What... what are you doing here? How... how did you _find _me?"

Yamamoto came inside and looked down at Gokudera. It wasn't much of a distance. In the time passed, Gokudera had grown within a few inches shorter than Yamamoto. Gokudera noticed that time hadn't been too kind to Yamamoto, he could see the crows feet in the corners of his eyes from smiling and squinting so much. His skin was darker and a bit weathered from constant exposure to the sun. His hazel eyes were flat and dull and for someone who was married and living his dream, he didn't look like he was all that happy.

"Aha, I managed to get a hold of Tsuna. He told me where to find you," Yamamoto said with a nervous laugh.

Gokudera eyed him suspiciously. He waited for further explanation.

"You look good, Gokudera." Yamamoto reached out and pulled on a lock of Gokudera's silver hair which had grown longer in the back, almost to his shoulders. His fingers lingered at the tips and Gokudera almost leaned into the touch.

"Your hair's gotten really long," he said with a nostalgic smile.

Gokudera took a cautionary step back and folded his arms across his chest. He was starting to feel anxious, his heart was fluttering. "What are you doing here, baseball freak?"

Yamamoto cast his eyes down at the floor and sighed. "I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited but I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it. I had hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded that for me, it isn't over."

Gokudera furrowed his brow and scowled. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I got your letter," Yamamoto said simply.

"My what? Letter...?" And then realization hit him. _That _letter. "But how?" he whispered to himself. He vaguely recalled telling his assistant to handle the paperwork, he recalled the letter being set on that stack of papers. "_Shit._"

Yamamoto looked up and smiled. "Did you really mean all those things that you said?"  
Gokudera felt heat creep through his cheeks and anger boiling up his rib cage. "You weren't supposed to see that," he snarled.

"Aha, but I got it. I read it. You didn't send it?" Yamamoto asked, taking a step forward.

"Look, Yamamoto, I have things to do. I'm a very busy man. Shouldn't you be with your wife instead of here, in Italy worrying about some stupid letter?" Gokudera turned and walked to his bedroom to continue packing.

Sure enough, Yamamoto followed him. "I... I didn't marry her."

Gokudera stilled and turned around slowly. His heart started to thud against his chest. "Wh-what?"

Yamamoto smiled sheepishly. "I got your letter and when I read it, I... I can't explain the feelings I felt but I _knew..._ I _knew _that marrying that girl was a mistake. Gokudera, I... I never loved her. The marriage, it was just for show. Just for my career because I had to move on."

Gokudera took a step forward and despite hearing that news, he was furious. He had wrote that letter in private, he had given himself enough time to get over Yamamoto and here he was saying that _he _needed to move on?

"Yamamoto... You broke up with _me,_ remember? What did you have to move on from? I'd say five years was plenty of time to get whatever you had for me out of your system," he said curtly.

Yamamoto shook his head. "I never got over you, I could never get you out of my system. Never might I find someone like you, Gokudera. No matter where I looked, you were there. I made a mistake, a really stupid mistake. I thought it would be for the best, you were always out of my reach, Gokudera - even when I had you in my arms, you were still so far away. It hurt. And the closer I got to you the further you moved, chasing Tsuna's shadow and I just couldn't do it anymore. I didn't _want _to do it anymore."

Gokudera walked up to Yamamoto with his fists clenched, readying himself to throw a punch. He was inches away from Yamamoto, close enough to start a war. "Are you telling me that you left the mafia, left the Tenth, left _me _because you were jealous?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Yamamoto winced. "It wasn't like that. I was never jealous. Loving you just hurt too much. I didn't deserve to be treated like that. You never told me how you felt, how was I supposed to know what you were thinking?"

Gokudera felt his chest tighten and he resisted the urge to beat Yamamoto with five years worth of pent up frustration and anguish and pain bleeding out through his fists.

"Don't forget me, I beg -"

"How dare you," Gokudera uttered, eyes hooded. "How dare you ask that of me. I can't keep up with your turning tables, under your thumb I can't breathe."

"Gokudera, please. Forgive me. Now that I know how you really feel, I can't stop thinking about you. My whole world is a mess, that girl left me because I couldn't even bring myself to touch her or look at her after I read your letter. My heart hurts, my head hurts. Gokudera, I-"

Gokudera looked up at Yamamoto, his green eyes searing with such a flame it startled Yamamoto. "I won't let you close enough to hurt me. No, I won't rescue you to just desert me. I can't give you the heart you think you gave me. It's time to say goodbye -"

Yamamoto searched those eyes, lifting a hesitant hand to place on Gokudera's cheek. "You can give me everything I've ever wanted, I'm sorry I didn't think so all those years ago. I braved a hundred storms to leave you and it hurt. But I want to be with Gokudera, now. I'll forget all about how I felt back then-"

Gokudera angrily swatted his hand away and stepped back. "As hard as you try, no, I will never be knocked down. I'll never let you close enough to hurt me and I _won't _rescue you from your pain for you to just desert me again. I'm sorry that you think things have changed, but I can't give you the heart you think you gave me. It really is time to say goodbye to turning tables, Yamamoto."

Yamamoto grabbed his wrist and pulled him back as he tried to run away, which is what Gokudera always did best. When Gokudera looked into his eyes, they were sorrowful and pleading and he felt a sharp pain rip through his chest. Maybe this time he'd be fortunate enough to have that heart attack he keeps feeling he's having because what he felt right now was worse than death. How long did Yamamoto intend to keeping messing with his head?

"Please," Yamamoto begged. It was a whisper, so broken and defeated and though Gokudera wanted to say yes, yes to everything and give into him, he wasn't about to make the same mistake again. He was never that stupid.

He sighed. "Look, I'm sorry that the letter got sent to you. It wasn't meant for your eyes to see. I'm sorry that I caused problems in your almost marriage, I'm sorry if I confused you. Next time I'll be braver, next time I'll be my own savior; standing on my own two feet. I won't need to write things like that to stop the pain, I won't need you. Weren't you the one who said 'sometimes it lasts in love and sometimes it hurts instead'? Well, I guess this is one of those times. We'll never last, Yamamoto. I'll never change for you. The Tenth and this family will _always _be my top priority. I can't give you the things you want. My heart... my heart doesn't work like that. So go on back to your happy idiotic baseball life where you can marry that baseball wife and have annoying little baseball babies and make your dad proud. I'll be fine, just leave me alone. I'll find someone too, eventually - maybe. Someone like you."

This time Yamamoto didn't hesitate to reel the smaller framed man into his arms and tighten his grip. "I don't want you to. I don't want you to find someone like me because I want you to be with _only _me.I understand now, Gokudera. I understand everything and I will love you always and nothing will change that. And I'll never ask you to give up anything for me, I'll never ask you to change because I like you just the way you are. I'll never find someone like you."

Gokudera looked up at Yamamoto, his eyes were wide and his heart was pounding so loudly he was pretty sure that Yamamoto could hear it. Yamamoto's eyes were sincere, they were warm and inviting and Gokudera couldn't hold back anymore, because well... he was never a good liar and who was he kidding... he had never moved on, never gave up and the instant Yamamoto asked to be forgiven, the second he said he wanted him, Gokudera was ready to give in.

He grabbed the lapels of Yamamoto's suit jacket and pulled him close, crashing his lips hungrily against Yamamoto's. His mouth was saccharine and Gokudera could taste sweet shari rice and strawberry milk on Yamamoto's tongue. It was so much better than the acidic, bittersweet taste he had in his own mouth for months since learning of Yamamoto and his never to be wife.

Yamamoto moved towards Gokudera's bed, they were still entwined in each other's arms trading off desperate kisses full of tongue and teeth every so often for oxygen. The edge of the bed hit Gokudera in the back of the legs, forcing him backward. He fell on to the bed with a subtle bounce, pulling Yamamoto on top of him.

Yamamoto didn't waste time, bracing himself with one arm to tear off Gokudera's dress shirt while Gokudera followed suit, tugging off Yamamoto's jacket and shirt. His hands mapped the lines of Yamamoto's sculpted and beveled torso, digging his nails into the muscles in his back when Yamamoto's hot breath fell on his neck and his teeth grazed his earlobe. He gasped when Yamamoto mouthed his collarbone and arched his back into the tantalizing trails Yamamoto's tongue left on his bare chest. Yamamoto removed his belt with ease and Gokudera squirmed underneath him as he undid the button and zipper of his slacks with his teeth.

Yamamoto was quick in removing the rest of Gokudera's clothes. As he kissed in between Gokudera's thighs, his hands and fingers traced every line and plane on Gokudera's concave abdomen, memorizing every spot that made him writhe and gasp with pleasure. When he took Gokudera into his mouth, there was a groan of relief from the bomber as he kneaded his fingers in Yamamoto's scalp like a cat would when in heat.

As Yamamoto's lips wrapped tight around his cock and moved steadily up and down his shaft, his tongue worked expertly around the tip. Gokudera tugged on his hair as he desperately tried to fuck Yamamoto's mouth but Yamamoto gripped his thighs tight enough to leave bruises on the ivory skin. He moaned through the tingling pain in his scalp, the hum sending a rippling vibration down Gokudera's erection.

"_Shit,_" Gokudera breathed. _"Yama... I'm gonna co-" _

Yamamoto pulled back and stroked as his breath hitched in his throat with a gasp and he came, his body shuddering and his toes curling. Yamamoto hummed against Gokudera's hip bone as Gokudera dragged a hand through his hair. He didn't waste time though, getting up off the bed and divesting himself of the rest of his clothing while Gokudera lay splayed out on the bed, covered in a sticky sheen mess.

He crawled back on the bed and caged Gokudera between his arms, fiendishly smashing their lips together. He ran a hand along Gokudera's wet chest and stomach and wrapped his long fingers around both of their cocks where he started off with a slow stroke and steady thrust.

Gokudera bit and pulled on Yamamoto's bottom lip, licking his way up to the shell of his ear and wistfully calling out Yamamoto's name.

"Aah... Gokudera, I can't wait anymore," Yamamoto groaned and he stopped, sitting back and sliding two fingers through the come on Gokudera's stomach. He traced the fingers down Gokudera's crease and spread the come generously over the ringed muscle.

Gokudera squirmed and gasped at the sudden intrusion, the feel of his own come as lubricant was somehow erotic. Or maybe it was the way Yamamoto curled and twisted his fingers, stroking in all the right places. Or maybe it was that his hot, wet mouth was over his once again hard cock. Regardless of what was rendering Gokudera to a panting and moaning mess, he felt the heat coiling deep in his groin, near coming undone. As if sensing this, Yamamoto stopped his ministrations, allowing cold air to hit his heated flesh and leaving him empty and wanting. He was mortified at the desperate and eager whimper that came out of his mouth.

Yamamoto lined up against him, wrapping Gokudera's legs around his waist. "Gokudera," he breathed, leaning in to kiss down his neck. "I want you."

"Wait, Yamamoto," he panted. Gokudera panicked for a minute now that he had a bit of clarity. "I... I haven't... since we, uh-"

Yamamoto looked down at Gokudera and smiled. "I haven't either. With anyone. Don't worry, I'll make you feel good."

Gokudera felt himself blush and he adverted his eyes from Yamamoto's gaze. He eased in to Gokudera ever so slowly and Gokudera dug his nails into his shoulder blades, hissing from the burn.

"Are you okay?"

"Shut up and just do it already," Gokudera whined.

Yamamoto wrapped his hand around Gokudera's, bringing his arm up above his head. He pushed in deep and when Gokudera cried out, he silenced him with a slow and passionate kiss. He gave him a minute to adjust until Gokudera broke the kiss.

"_Move,_" he gasped and Yamamoto complied, rocking his hips and huffing against the hollow of Gokudera's collarbone. The pain was intense and the pressure was uncomfortable but he bit though it, squeezing Yamamoto's hand until the feeling subsided. He moaned and it encouraged Yamamoto to thrust harder, faster.

His cock dragged across Yamamoto's stomach with each thrust as he hooked his ankles and closed his legs tighter around Yamamoto, digging his heels in the small of his back. He looked up and locked eyes with the now bright and dancing hazel irises of the man above him, holding his gaze. While he could read the remorse and apology in his eyes, Gokudera could also see the elation that had brought them back to life and he only hoped that Yamamoto could read the silent commitment and forgiveness he offered in return.

Sweat beaded on Yamamoto's forehead, streaking down his temples and Gokudera never thought he looked so damn sexy and rugged as he did right in this moment. He felt the pleasurable tension build up once again and this time he allowed himself to cry out Yamamoto's given name. He was lost in the passion, relief and euphoria washing over him in electric waves.

Yamamoto bucked forward and shuddered. He he lowered his head to seal Gokudera's lips in a slow and sensual kiss as he filled him, collapsing boneless and sweaty on top of Gokudera.

After a few moments of heavy panting, Yamamoto pulled out and Gokudera winced at the sudden loss. Still holding Gokudera's hand tight, Yamamoto rolled over and kissed his cheek. "Say, Gokudera... still thinking about finding someone new?" he asked with a crooked smile.

Gokudera squeezed Yamamoto's hand and welcomed the arm that draped over his waist. "Idiot... I'll never find someone like you," he muttered and Yamamoto chuckled, pulling him close. They fell asleep in each other's arms and Gokudera missed his flight to Japan later that evening.

When Gokudera awoke the next morning, he had thirteen missed calls from the tenth and a full mailbox. He cursed Yamamoto in every language that he was fluent in but the tenth had given him a pass, knowingly stating he knew Yamamoto and Gokudera needed some time to work on things - how, Gokudera hadn't deduced but chalked it up to the tenth's hyper intuition. They decided that the Guardians would have the meeting with the Millfiore on their turf _when_ Yamamoto returned as the Rain Guardian, which he had told the tenth he would be doing after he met with Gokudera.

"Did you know?" Gokudera asked, crawling back into bed after hanging up the phone.

"Did I know what?" asked Yamamoto, a broad smile stretched across his face.

"That it... we... we're going to end up like this?"

"Honestly? No. I was pretty sure you were going to either blow me up or beat me up. Either way, I hadn't expected this outcome. Are... you okay with it?"

Gokudera shrugged. "I suppose... but next time, I _will-"_

Yamamoto chuckled. "There won't be a next time, I swear."

"So if you weren't sure about this, why'd you ask the tenth to reinstate you?"

"Because... because if you rejected me, I'd just have to make Gokudera fall in love with me all over again," Yamamoto smiled with a wide grin.

"Che... who says I loved you in the first place?" Gokudera said with a smirk, straddling Yamamoto.

Laughing, Yamamoto pulled the bomber down into a captivating and memorable kiss, full of passion and words unspoken.

* * *

They spent the next two days in bed, making up for the five years of stupidity shared by the both of them. Though they regretted all the time they missed, the time spent in this moment was worth the wait.

Needless to say, Tsuna never got on that plane either because without his right hand man, it didn't feel right. The Millfiore's plan to take out the Vongola Decimo and the feared Right Hand Man in one shot had been foiled.

Turning tables, Yamamoto had unknowingly changed the future.


	15. XV Be Still - The Fray

**Author's Note: **

Omg, I'm such a horrible author xD

I've just realized that the warning on this somehow didn't get PUT UP HERE, so I'm sorry to all of those who've read this and died a little because they weren't expecting that kind of ending. I'm a real asshole and I'm sorry. xo

SO, WITHOUT FURTHER ADO - THE WARNING:

**[WARNING] :**

**CONTAINS MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. DO NOT CONTINUE IF YOU'RE SENSITIVE TO THIS MATTER.**

If you aren't, continue on, you masochistic freaks. We have a lot in common.

* * *

**XV. Last Track : Be Still - The Fray**

* * *

Gokudera has never hated Shamal, he's been indifferent because that's how he always is towards everyone, but today he hates him.

He doesn't mean to because it isn't his fault, but he can't help hate him as those words leave his mouth. They roll off his tongue and settle in Gokudera's stomach,thick like turpentine.

It's always been a possibility since he took that first satisfying and addictive pull on his first cigarette when he was ten. But when you're young, you're invincible right? Or at least you think you are.

Gokudera's twenty and he's not invincible anymore.

* * *

He's grateful for one thing and that's doctor - patient confidentiality.

He doesn't tell anyone just yet, he doesn't want to be treated differently. It's not like he believes the Tenth will cast him away. He's not the kind of man the men of other families were. He's warm hearted and genuine and Gokudera loves that about his boss. His huge heart is a marvelous thing.

He doesn't want to be useless, he doesn't want to fail him so he doesn't tell him. He feels guilty, like he's lying, but he's hopeful. There's no sense in getting anyone upset The world's come a long way in this kind of research so he's not too worried. It's probably curable, right?

Gokudera avoids Shamal as much as possible and delves into being the Tenth's proud and fierce Storm Guardian.

He's twenty-one and prays for a miracle.

* * *

The first one to notice something is wrong is Yamamoto.

Gokudera thinks it's ironic because everything goes over that idiot's head. But not this time. He should've expected it though, because out of all the Guardians, they're the closest. Not just because they're the right and left of the Vongola Decimo but because in a strange turn of events, they've become lovers.

Gokudera would have never thought it possible, but he's become quite fond of the baseball idiot and now that he's not that angry brat of eight years ago, he's learned to be a little more accepting of things. Like a stupid baseball idiot's confession one night at a Vongola mixer when they were seventeen, while he was drunk and with his guard down. He easily was taken advantage of and when he awoke the next morning, he tried to be mad but when he couldn't, he learned to accept that the way his heart felt when he was next to Yamamoto could only mean that he felt the same way. They've been together ever since.

Yamamoto seems to pay just a little more attention to him, seems to spend a lot more time with him and Gokudera catches a lot of his worried glances in his direction when Yamamoto looks his way.

They laugh and argue, they work well together. Everyone knows about them but no one is surprised. They sleep in the same bed and call each other's first names on winded breath when they hold each other after an explosion of lust and passion.

They are twenty-two and stupidly in love.

* * *

Gokudera hasn't stopped smoking, he figures what's the point? The treatments come with far more damage like losing his hair and that is his pride. It's stupid of him and he knows that but he also knows the treatments will end his run as the Right Hand and Storm Guardian. It'll draw everyone's attention and they'll preen over him and he'll hate every moment of it. He's still waiting for that miracle but nothing comes except Shamal's furious rage that he won't accept the treatments and how little he cares.

And it's not that he doesn't care, he's scared and he doesn't want things to change because changing things will mean acceptance and Gokudera's not ready to accept anything yet.

Except as time passes, when his lungs start seizing and he's coughing up blood, he kind of has to accept the inevitable. The longer he avoids it, the worse it seems to get. Things like this don't go away so easily. Shamal refuses to treat him anymore unless he smartens up and stops trying to throw his life away. Gokudera reluctantly agrees.

He's twenty-three and finally accepts he has extensive stage small-cell carcinoma.

* * *

When he tells Yamamoto, he cries. Gokudera hates to see him cry and really hates that he's the reason. He hasn't told anyone else and he didn't want to even tell Yamamoto but that guy... he's just so persistent all the time and he knows something's up because Gokudera's quit smoking and is looking a bit rough these days. He's lost a lot of weight and his hair is thinning and he's a little more tired than usual. He's coughing and weak and often hides away from everyone else because Gokudera is sneaky and has been going through the chemotherapy treatments secretively. It's hard to do when you live with someone but Gokudera avoids Yamamoto and puts on a game face for everyone else. It strains their relationship and Gokudera thinks it's a good idea, because until he gets better he doesn't want to hurt Yamamoto in this way. But when Yamamoto catches him with blood on his hands from the prolonged coughing fit he's just had, he has to tell him.

So now Yamamoto is on his knees and crying, his hands covering his face and he keeps repeating Gokudera's name over and over and Gokudera can't take it anymore. He falls to his knees and tries to comfort Yamamoto, but Yamamoto grabs him in his arms and wraps them around him so tightly, Gokudera struggles to breathe.

He presses his wet cheek against Gokudera's sunken and ashen cheek and whispers how much he loves him. He says he's sorry and that no matter what, Gokudera will get better. He makes him promise and Gokudera thinks that's just stupid but he does it anyways because he loves Yamamoto with every fiber of his being.

So he promises he will and he feels guilty for lying. It's a lie because Shamal has told him the treatments aren't working, if anything they're only slowing down the progression. But Yamamoto is content with that and he doesn't let go of Gokudera, not for a very long time. Nothing Gokudera says stops his tears and eventually Gokudera starts to cry too, because out of the things in his life - being accepted by a Family and being someone, protecting the Tenth, being the fiercest and feared Vongola Storm Guardian and finally... _finally_ amounting to something in his pathetic life - Yamamoto is the one and _only _thing he doesn't want to give up.

He loves this man with all his heart and wishes back then he had a glimpse of his future now so he'd always have that glimmer of hope. But life doesn't work out that way.

He's twenty-four and dying, and he regrets the day he first lit that cigarette.

* * *

Time passes slowly but quickly and Gokudera has been confined to a bed, no longer able to run around, bouncing after the Tenth or chasing after Lambo. He's no longer able to go on missions or sit at a desk but what he misses most is that he's no longer able to be with Yamamoto. They can't make love, Gokudera's fragile frame can't handle it and Yamamoto won't do it because he thinks it will hurt him.

Gokudera longs for his touch again because it doesn't hurt, not at all. Yamamoto is his anesthetic, he makes all the pain disappear. And maybe it's just because he's insecure. He's thin and frail, his hair is almost gone and his breath is always shallow and ragged. He's not attractive at all and who would want to be intimate with someone who looked like he did? But Yamamoto holds him and whispers how much he loves him and tells him that despite Gokudera's opinion of his own ugliness, he's still the most beautiful man he's ever seen.

He's twenty-five and he knows the end is near.

* * *

He's lived and learned and loved, but not long enough. The only regret he has is smoking those damn cigarettes. He could have lived every moment the same, because he wouldn't want to change meeting the Tenth and the Family he's come to love; every last one of them. He wouldn't want to change meeting that stupid baseball idiot, even if he really did hate him at first.

He can barely keep conscious now, but he doesn't want to let go. He wants to hold on to that one last thread that binds him to Yamamoto, even if he can't be anything like his former self, he doesn't want to leave.

Yamamoto lays on the bed beside him, holding him in his arms. He hums a beautiful tune, nothing like Gokudera has ever heard before and it's lulling him to sleep. But Gokudera is restless and doesn't want to close his eyes for he knows he won't wake up. He knows it's selfish of him to make Yamamoto hurt like this, to make Yamamoto stay by his side but he's scared and he doesn't want to let go. He made a promise, as stupid as it was, he made a promise and he didn't want to let it go.

Yamamoto knows this, knows Gokudera is stubborn even down to this very last stretch but he wouldn't have it any other way. There's no where else he'd rather be than right here, right now. Gokudera coughs and shakes and shudders, he does anything he can to keep himself lucid but Yamamoto knows he's _so _tired. It's selfish of him to want Gokudera to stay, he's slowly come to terms with it and it hurts. It breaks his heart into a million pieces like fine blown glass that shatters into sharp shards of glass that cut open every piece of him.

He strokes Gokudera's cheek, runs his thumb along his cheekbone and kisses from his forehead to his nose and then to his lips. And against them he draws in a sharp breath and tries not to choke as he tells Gokudera what he needs to know to let go.

"_Be still and know that I'm with you, be still and know that I am here. When darkness comes upon you and covers you with fear and shame, be still and know that I'm with you. And I will say your name if terror falls upon your bed and sleep no longer comes... be still and know that I'm with you. And when you go through the valley and the shadow comes down from the hill, if morning never comes to, be still and know that I'm here. If you forget the way to go and lose where you came from... If no one is standing beside you, be still and know that I'm with you."_

Gokudera is silent and looks up at Yamamoto with tired eyes, the fiery green now a milky shade of gray and he smiles, just a little. Yamamoto runs his thumb along Gokudera's cracked and white lips and smiles back.

"It's alright, Hayato... close your eyes and be still."

And Gokudera feels relief then, laced with heartache and sadness but he's okay. He thinks, finally it's okay. He lets out the tiniest sigh and in it he whispers, "I... love you, baseball... idiot."

And Yamamoto laughs but it comes out gargled because he's fighting back the burning tears and the sobs about to wrack his body.

"I-I love you too, 'D-Dera," he chokes.

Gokudera closed his eyes and nudged into Yamamoto as close as he could and Yamamoto wrapped his arms around him tightly. A few moments later, Yamamoto felt the slightest and softest brush of breath against his neck and then there was no more. Just stillness. And Yamamoto wept, long and steady. When he gained just a little composure, just to make sure he knew, Yamamoto stroked Gokudera's cheek and whispered in his ear,

"_I-__f you f-forget the way to go and l-lose where you came from... If no one is standing beside you, be still and know that I'm... with you."_


	16. XVI Be Still (AE)

**Author's Note **

At the request of the beautiful Yuni-chan, my gorgeous daughter Nico and my lovely and brilliant waifu, I've given this fic an alternative ending. I hope you guys and everyone else enjoys!

* * *

**XVI. Alternative Track : Be Still - The Fray (Alternate Ending)**

* * *

Gokudera has never hated Shamal, he's been indifferent because that's how he always is towards everyone, but today he hates him.

He doesn't mean to because it isn't his fault, but he can't help hate him as those words leave his mouth. They roll off his tongue and settle in Gokudera's stomach,thick like turpentine.

It's always been a possibility since he took that first satisfying and addictive pull on his first cigarette when he was ten. But when you're young, you're invincible right? Or at least you think you are.

Gokudera's twenty and he's not invincible anymore.

* * *

He's grateful for one thing and that's doctor - patient confidentiality.

He doesn't tell anyone just yet, he doesn't want to be treated differently. It's not like he believes the Tenth will cast him away. He's not the kind of man the men of other families were. He's warm hearted and genuine and Gokudera loves that about his boss. His huge heart is a marvelous thing.

He doesn't want to be useless, he doesn't want to fail him so he doesn't tell him. He feels guilty, like he's lying, but he's hopeful. There's no sense in getting anyone upset The world's come a long way in this kind of research so he's not too worried. It's probably curable, right?

Gokudera avoids Shamal as much as possible and delves into being the Tenth's proud and fierce Storm Guardian.

He's twenty-one and prays for a miracle.

* * *

The first one to notice something is wrong is Yamamoto.

Gokudera thinks it's ironic because everything goes over that idiot's head. But not this time. He should've expected it though, because out of all the Guardians, they're the closest. Not just because they're the right and left of the Vongola Decimo but because in a strange turn of events, they've become lovers.

Gokudera would have never thought it possible, but he's become quite fond of the baseball idiot and now that he's not that angry brat of eight years ago, he's learned to be a little more accepting of things. Like a stupid baseball idiot's confession one night at a Vongola mixer when they were seventeen, while he was drunk and with his guard down. He easily was taken advantage of and when he awoke the next morning, he tried to be mad but when he couldn't, he learned to accept that the way his heart felt when he was next to Yamamoto could only mean that he felt the same way. They've been together ever since.

Yamamoto seems to pay just a little more attention to him, seems to spend a lot more time with him and Gokudera catches a lot of his worried glances in his direction when Yamamoto looks his way.

They laugh and argue, they work well together. Everyone knows about them but no one is surprised. They sleep in the same bed and call each other's first names on winded breath when they hold each other after an explosion of lust and passion.

They are twenty-two and stupidly in love.

* * *

Gokudera hasn't stopped smoking, he figures what's the point? The treatments come with far more damage like losing his hair and that is his pride. It's stupid of him and he knows that but he also knows the treatments will end his run as the Right Hand and Storm Guardian. It'll draw everyone's attention and they'll preen over him and he'll hate every moment of it. He's still waiting for that miracle but nothing comes except Shamal's furious rage that he won't accept the treatments and how little he cares.

And it's not that he doesn't care, he's scared and he doesn't want things to change because changing things will mean acceptance and Gokudera's not ready to accept anything yet.

Except as time passes, when his lungs start seizing and he's coughing up blood, he kind of has to accept the inevitable. The longer he avoids it, the worse it seems to get. Things like this don't go away so easily. Shamal refuses to treat him anymore unless he smartens up and stops trying to throw his life away. Gokudera reluctantly agrees.

He's twenty-three and finally accepts he has extensive stage small-cell carcinoma.

* * *

When he tells Yamamoto, he cries. Gokudera hates to see him cry and really hates that he's the reason. He hasn't told anyone else and he didn't want to even tell Yamamoto but that guy... he's just so persistent all the time and he knows something's up because Gokudera's quit smoking and is looking a bit rough these days. He's lost a lot of weight and his hair is thinning and he's a little more tired than usual. He's coughing and weak and often hides away from everyone else because Gokudera is sneaky and has been going through the chemotherapy treatments secretively. It's hard to do when you live with someone but Gokudera avoids Yamamoto and puts on a game face for everyone else. It strains their relationship and Gokudera thinks it's a good idea, because until he gets better he doesn't want to hurt Yamamoto in this way. But when Yamamoto catches him with blood on his hands from the prolonged coughing fit he's just had, he has to tell him.

So now Yamamoto is on his knees and crying, his hands covering his face and he keeps repeating Gokudera's name over and over and Gokudera can't take it anymore. He falls to his knees and tries to comfort Yamamoto, but Yamamoto grabs him in his arms and wraps them around him so tightly, Gokudera struggles to breathe.

He presses his wet cheek against Gokudera's sunken and ashen cheek and whispers how much he loves him. He says he's sorry and that no matter what, Gokudera will get better. He makes him promise and Gokudera thinks that's just stupid but he does it anyways because he loves Yamamoto with every fiber of his being.

So he promises he will and he feels guilty for lying. It's a lie because Shamal has told him that the treatments don't come with a high succession rate, that he probably won't live to see his twenty-seventh birthday. It's hard news to swallow but Gokudera has to accept it.

But Yamamoto is content with that and he doesn't let go of Gokudera, not for a very long time. Nothing Gokudera says stops his tears and eventually Gokudera starts to cry too, because out of the things in his life - being accepted by a Family and being someone, protecting the Tenth, being the fiercest and feared Vongola Storm Guardian and finally... finally amounting to something in his pathetic life - Yamamoto is the one and only thing he doesn't want to give up.

He loves this man with all his heart and wishes back then he had a glimpse of his future now so he'd always have that glimmer of hope. But life doesn't work out that way.

He's twenty-four and dying, and he regrets the day he first lit that cigarette.

* * *

Yamamoto's optimism gives him hope. He's surprised at how focused that baseball idiot can be at times and it surprises him still. It surprises him to see the amount of time and research he puts into Gokudera's diagnosis and does what he can to ease Gokudera's pain.

The day is their seventh year anniversary and they're happy. Gokudera doesn't feel weak or in pain today, as corny as it sounds the air is full of love and it makes him feel a million times better. Like the cancer is behind him now and nothing but a bad dream.

They spend the day with friends and the evening alone, over dinner and candlelight and they make love. Slowly, carefully but that just makes it more passionate. The way Yamamoto touches him is gentle, tentative and loving. He carresses every bit of Gokudera and tells him that he's still the most beautiful man he's ever seen, even as Gokudera starts to doubt it.

And when they've reached their climax clinging tightly to one another, Yamamoto lays kisses from his mouth and across his cheek and whispers four words in Gokudera's ear that make his heart stop.

He's twenty-five and Yamamoto asks him to marry him.

* * *

Gokudera is apprehensive about a lot of things. He doesn't want to get married because he doesn't want to continue breaking Yamamoto's heart, even though Yamamoto tells him that this will make him the happiest man alive. He's apprehensive because he worries if they'll make it to the alter in time. He worries about what the others will say or how the mafia will feel about two Vongola Guardians, the right and the left no less, getting married when they are men.

But the Tenth assures him that it will be fine and all of the Guardians are happy for them, even Hibari. He gives them his blessings and tells Gokudera that if anyone else has a problem with it, they'd have to deal with the wrath of the Vongola Decimo.

Gokudera feels like he's running out of time, so they don't waste a moment. The Guardians fly to Paris where they hold a small ceremony and Gokudera makes a promise of forever, even if he feels it isn't true. Because he knows that if there is such a thing as an afterlife, when he gets there he will watch over Yamamoto every day foe the rest of his life until the two of them can be together again.

Yamamoto is elated, his smile is so bright it warms the cold chills Hayato feels permeating his bones and the icy feeling he has in the pit of his stomach. He's not afraid of marrying Yamamoto in front of all these people, even though he knows if he wasn't sick he probably would be. He's afraid of leaving Yamamoto. He's never felt so much love for another person, not even the Tenth or his sister.

When they seal their promises with a kiss, it's searing heat melts Gokudera's heart and it makes every last worry and all the anxiety go away. Yamamoto is an amazing man and he feels so lucky to have found someone like him that was willing to stay by his side even when he wasn't so nice. Hell, he's still not so nice.

Looking up into those warm, hazel eyes, Gokudera smiles and tells him that he loves him and that he couldn't be more happier. Yamamoto doesn't get to hear those words to often and when he does, especially moments like these, he cries.

They kiss and they celebrate and Gokudera holds all these moments close to his heart because he feels like there isn't much time. He holds Yamamoto close and tells him every chance that he gets that he loves him. That night they make love, even though Gokudera is tired and feeling a little weaker than usual. He does it because he want to feel their connection in more ways tha just the rings around their fingers or the kisses they've shared that day.

He wants to run his hands through Yamamoto's silken black hair and hold it tight when Yamamoto makes him shudder. He wants to map the muscles in Yamamoto's brawny back and grip the sculpted biceps when his vision starts to blur. He wants to call out Yamamoto's given name every time he hits that spot and comes, he wants to remember everything about the way this man feels inside him. The way he says his name in a raspy whisper, with so much lust and love and adoration.

He wants to love Yamamoto forever.

And later that night after they've cleaned up and settled in, snug and warm, Yamamoto holds him close and kisses his neck and ear. And just before Gokudera is about to fall asleep, he speaks.

"Hayato... I... I know this isn't easy for you, so I want you to know... that even though I want you to stay, I want to be selfish and keep you to myself for as long as I live... if the pain ever gets too much and you can't hold on, then it's okay to be still."

Gokudera scoffs and calls him an idiot. "What are you talking about? You're stuck with me. We've just gotten married and already you're telling me to kick the bucket. What a bastard."

Yamamoto laughs because Gokudera isn't serious. He knows that Yamamoto knows they both feel the same. He doesn't want to let go either, but if the time comes where he has to watch Yamamoto suffering over watching _him _suffer, he would. Gokudera couldn't bear to see pain in those eyes. It would kill him far worse than the disease itself.

"You know it's not like that. I love Gokudera and I never want to let him go but... if when the time comes, just be still. Be still and know that I'm with you. When darkness comes upon you and covers you with fear and shame, I will say your name so be still and know that I'm with you. If you forget the way to go and lose where you came from, if no one is standing beside you, be still and know I am."

Gokudera felt a hard lump in his throat and the hot sting of tears running down his cheeks and when Yamamoto saw this, he panicked.

"Are you crying? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry!"

"Idiot..." Gokudera sniffled. "I'm not crying."  
"Was it something I said? I didn't mean to hurt you." He wiped the tears from Gokudera's cheeks with his thumbs when he took Gokudera's face into his hands.

Gokudera snorted and rested his forehead against Yamamoto's. "It was stupid, so stupid that it made my eyes water and that is why idiots shouldn't speak." He smiled and kissed Yamamoto before falling asleep to the soft stroke of Yamamoto's fingers on his skin.

He's twenty-six, married to the man of his dreams (though he never once dreamed of marrying that stupid baseball idiot) and he knows now it's okay to be still, because Yamamoto will _always _be by his side.

* * *

It's a month before his birthday when Shamal gives him the best news of his life. Better than the news of him being accepted by the Vongola or becoming the Tenth's right hand man.

He tells him that the new treatments he invented have been working and the cancer is in complete remission at an accelerated rate. He's going to get better, there will be no inevitable death.

He can't believe it, he's so pessimistic by nature and he's still so shocked that it's actually true. Shamal reassures him that the cancer won't come back, not with the new treatment that he and Verde have discovered. It's big, global scale big. It's not just Gokudera he's healed but it's anyone else with cancer too.

Shamal is acting pretty modest considering and reminds Gokudera he doesn't treat men, so he owes him big time. But Gokudera isn't an idiot, behind that he. hears the words Shamal really means to say. He means to say that he did this for him, that this cure was not a strive for fame and fortune, it was to save Gokudera's life and nothing more.

And Gokudera can be modest too, so he contains his emotions and tells the doctor to go fuck himself, the feared Vongola right hand man doesn't ever owe anyone shit and struts out of his office.

And once he's out of sight, he makes a beeline straight from Yamamoto's office and bursts through the door like there's a fire outside. Yamamoto jumps and freezes, tie undone, messy hair and a pen cap chewed in between his teeth.

He gets up cautiously, his eyes a little wide and his brow furrowed with worry and confusion. "Is everything okay?" he asks with a tremble in his voice.

Gokudera doesn't say anything right away, he's just reeling. Ecstatic and elated, he throws his arms around the man he loves and the first believable wave of relief crashes into him like a midnight tide. It's refreshing and mind easing but at the same time, he feels anxious and nervous and so many other emotions that he can't even out a name to.

Laughing, Yamamoto holds him close and asks him what's gotten him so worked up and he tells him. And Yamamoto's reaction is far more dramatic than his, as he starts to cry and hugs and kisses Gokudera so much it becomes annoying and Gokudera has to yell at him.

When they've both calmed down, Gokudera tangles his fingers with Yamamoto's and leans in, kissing him deeply.

They're both a little skeptical still, but as time moves on and Gokudera only gets better, the more happier and at ease they become.

He's able to do missions once again, and that makes him feel good. He's not so weak and useless anymore, he's able to protect the Tenth and the family again, instead of them protecting him.

He can be with Yamamoto the way he wants to be now, rough and heated, full of unbridled passion and lust. He liked the way it was before too, but he's not a china doll, he's not fragile and doesn't want to make love that way. He wants it to be raw and sensual, carnal and pleasurable. And the first night they're able to do that is the night of his birthday, after they had a bang out celebration just not for his birthday but for his complete and full recovery.

And when they got back to their room, Gokudera ripped off Yamamoto's clothes and Yamamoto did the same. They tugged at each other's hair, marked each other's skin and dug their nails into each other's flesh. Gokudera let Yamamoto take him and he matched Yamamoto's fierce rhythm with one of his own just to show him how much he missed him like this. And when Gokudera reached his limit, it was an explosion like no other, an explosion that held no comparison to anything produced by his dynamite.

After they exhausted every last ounce of energy they had on each other, Gokudera curled into Yamamoto like always and stayed awake until he heard Yamamoto's soft snores above his head.

He lay there and thanked whatever gods were listening for every miracle he's ever had in his life, including the Tenth, the Family and Yamamoto and staying alive long enough to cherish them all. He then thought there was some sort of angel in Heaven, one he thought had long flowing silver hair and bright green eyes and a warm smile. An angel that had long, elegant fingers that splayed graciously over ivory keys that played to the melody of his life. He liked to think the angel was his mother and that she's helped him through every trial and tribulation, every obstacle he needed to overcome, ones beginning at the very start of dysfunctional childhood leading up to the day he met the Tenth, the day he met Yamamoto and the day she brought him into his life to give him a love that she never could. And finally, he liked to believe that even though Shamal was the one who busted his ass to find a cure, his mother was truly his saving grace. She was looking out for him, just like she would have been had she been alive.

He closed his eyes and hummed contently against the warmth of Yamamoto's skin. Yamamoto stirred and pulled him closer, kissing his head and muttering a haphazard _I love you._ Smiling a genuine smile, Gokudera drifted off to sleep thinking there's no where else he'd rather be and that again, he had managed to beat all the odds stacked up against him.

He's twenty-seven and proved Shamal wrong. He's twenty-seven and happy and stupidly in love. He regrets smoking but learns from his mistakes and doesn't take his second chances for granted. He's twenty-seven and although the mafia isn't made of rainbows and fairytales, he's finally gotten his happily ever after.


End file.
